Reassembled
by All Hail His Noodleness
Summary: The team find themselves stranded on an island with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. Post-movie, no slash, Tony whump.
1. Chapter 1

They had disassembled at the Avengers HQ, formerly known as Stark's Malibu home.

After the Chitauri invasion, many would have bet their first-borns that the _super-secret boy band and one girl _were inseparable. Although fortunately there is no such thing as a first-born collector, fate had not been kind to the Avengers.

The team had pitifully fallen back from their camaraderie since the invasion; as quickly as they had let down their shields to work together and protect their home, their walls had hastily been rebuilt –with all the more reinforcements and barriers. Each day dreadfully mirrored the day before, the only changing factor being that they had gotten on each other's nerves much more than the previous day.

Steve would be the first to wake up; early to bed and early to rise. He'd start his morning at 5:00 AM with a quick run around outskirts mansion, stopping for routine pushups and sit ups. Then at 6:00 he'd eat the breakfast he's always eaten for the last hundred years: two sunny side up eggs, two pieces of bacon, two sausages, and two slices of lightly buttered toast –an All American Grand Slam. After washing the dishes, he'd pour himself a cup of coffee –not that he needed it, before flipping through the newspaper. In a world not his own, the strict military routine was the only aspect of his life that reminded him of who is was.

Exactly at 6:15, Natasha and Clint could be heard sparring in the basement, deemed the training room. They had agreed to share a room ever since the cuddling was no longer a secret.

At 7:00, Thor and Clint would come into the kitchen for breakfast. If anyone were to be sleeping at the hour, they wouldn't be for long. No one would have guessed that besides the thunder-bending and the magic hammer that discriminates, Thor's _other_ power was that his voice had the unearthly ability to travel through almost any medium. In Asgard, there was no such thing as an indoor voice.

By then, Steve had already showered and changed into his usual collared shirt tucked into slacks. He's not expecting to see anyone, but looking spiffy isn't a crime. Thor and Clint would rummage through the fridge, eating as they browsed; some would even go as far as calling it a 'drive by'. No one ever saw when Natasha would eat, and for that matter, no one knew when she'd sleep [besides Clint]. They didn't really bother to find out, assuming she had to eat and sleep simply because she was human…right? The kitchen would always look awry afterwards, especially with Thor's Asgardian appetite. Although Tony would insist on hiring a couple of maids just so the captain would 'quit nagging', Steve would clean up every day, even though he hated it.

Bruce had secluded himself from the others, occasionally going down to the kitchen to grab some fresh fruit or veggies. He couldn't be too careful. Sure, Malibu is nothing like the heart of New York, but there are always things to be wrecked, and the other guy was just waiting for an opportunity. He spent most of his time in his room, on his laptop, researching. Once in a blue moon, Bruce would wander down into the lab and conduct some tests on his theories, but it had not occurred anytime recently.

Every once in a while, Tony would come up to get a coffee refill, and every once in a while, he would stop working to sleep. _Most_ of the time, he was busy upgrading the Mark 7, building the Mark 8, and planning the Mark 9, all the while constantly improving the arc reactor that powered everything he owned. Eating was for the weak, and sleep was for the dead.

Around dinner time, Steve would take upon himself as team leader to ask Tony and Bruce to come eat. Bruce would kindly reject and the conversation with Tony would always end in an argument.

Tony didn't have a problem with his teammates; he had two, or three, or four problems with them.

1. Steve was the son Howard Stark had always wanted. He had grown up in the captain's shadow. After years of hearing how Captain America was his dad's greatest creation, he eventually bought into it, believing that he really was a failure.

2. After Natasha's triple cross, Tony had never had so little trust for anyone. She was never one to show even a sliver of emotion, which was a great Stark repellant, as the man thrives off of people's reactions.

3. He instinctively was suspicious of Clint simply because of his affiliation with Natasha. The agent was as stone-faced as his partner.

4. Thor was obnoxious with his loud Asgardian voice and ruined every expensive piece of technology with his meaty Asgardian hands. No hard feelings, but Tony never really had a more meaningful talk aside from a casual _'sup Point Break_.

5. Bruce was his ideal lab buddy, but he was too cautious, preferring to work alone. After weeks of convincing him to work together, Tony had lost interest. He didn't have enough patience to wait for Bruce to come out of his big, green shell.

_Maybe _the rest of the band had a problem with him too. _Maybe_ he was too prideful, and _maybe_ he only thought about himself, and _maybe_ he never followed any orders. Or _MAYBE_ he was a genius and was misunderstood because the rest of the team were idiots. Yup, that seems about right.

Then there was Jarvis. Of course, the AI's only purpose was to be compatible and helpful and amazing and able to put up with him. Tony's only friend was a robot.

* * *

**Short Message: **I might as well tell you now: this story is Stark-centric. I regret nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony groggily woke up to darkness. This wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last –certainly not with _his_ work habits. He'd often find himself in various locations in his lab after passing out from sheer exhaustion. After some coffee, he'd pick up where he left off, oblivious to whatever the time happened to be.

"Jarvis, lights," he mechanically called out. Jarvis didn't respond. Of course he wouldn't, because Jarvis functions all Stark property and this…well, this wasn't Stark property. That would explain why he was laying on a metal counter, hands and feet handcuffed. Oh, boy.

* * *

The rest of the team rarely used Jarvis' assistance, and ever since Tony had updated his software in order for the AI to pick up on different tones and slang, Jarvis had been increasingly brilliant. He'd respond to remarks with witty sarcasm when appropriate.

They hardly ever wanted to talk to Tony, solely because when a conversation is initiated, the man would never shut up. Maybe Jarvis had been exposed to Tony for far too long, because the AI was just only a slightly polite version of him. If they avoided Tony, it'd be logical to evade Jarvis as well.

This is why the group never noticed when Jarvis was compromised nearly three days ago.

Well today was their lucky day. The reactor that ran the entire mansion subsequently shut down, a problem Tony was trying to prevent before he was...billionaire-napped.

Steve on the other hand had not noticed the power outage, as he rarely uses anything that hadn't existed before the fifties. The others had held out from going down to talk to Tony, assuming that their landlord would eventually fix the problem, since no one was more technologically dependent than said man. When dinner time came around and the sun began to sink behind the horizon, it became ridiculous. The men gave each other glances, nominated each other to be the lucky news bearer.

"Jarvis, what's wrong with the power?" Natasha said, rolling her eyes as the guys fought over who'd do what. When there was no response, she knew something was up. Tony would never let Jarvis shut down; he controlled all of the security defenses of the mansion. She kept a hand over the small knife hidden on her waist and made her way down to the lab.

The others quickly caught on and followed her, with Clint closely behind. The doors of the lab were protected by a security code, one that she had access to as Natalie Rushman.

"Stark, are you in here?" Steve called out in the dark. The members were on edge, cautiously examining the parameters of the lab until they were certain they were alone.

"The son of Stark is absent, we must determine his location," Thor announces, curiously inspecting some gadgets left on the lab bench.

Clint slyly grabbed one of Tony's prototype phones, browsing through it. "He's probably at a bar," he explains, distracted by the holographic features of the device.

"He has a bar," replies Bruce, who stood timidly by the door.

"Oh right, then a strip club it is," Clint says, pocketing the phone.

Steve ignored the conversation and dismissed the situation. It'd be better if they'd just go out for dinner while Tony returns. He wanted to voice this suggestion but couldn't. Why? Because a blinding light had engulfed them all.

* * *

Maybe panic was starting to settle, but Tony kept telling himself that it was in fact that sandwich he ate two days ago. He knew that delivery girl looked a bit suspicious. That bitch.

Before he was even done insulting that poor girl in his mind, he was interrupted by a damp cloth that was placed over his face. First impression of his handlers: rude.

"Mister Stark," a husky voice said softy. "Whatever we demand, we know you will reject," he came a bit closer, "so I'd like to skip ahead and go straight to the part where I torture you."

Well that's never a good sign. Second impression: impatient.

Before he could attempt to talk his way out of this one, icy water was poured steadily over his face. The first few seconds were, to say in the least, tough. He had held his breath while yanking desperately on the cuffs, but when he couldn't hold it any longer he thrashed his head from side to side. His lungs began to burn but he couldn't fight back the need to inhale, despite all logical objections. He started to slip in and out of unconsciousness, and so his automatic body functions took over. Unable to hold his breathe any further, his first breathe came in excruciatingly painful as his lungs filled with water and he immediately coughed it back up. It was a vicious cycle until, about two minutes in, his eyes began to roll back and he stopped pulling in the restraints. The Mark 8 wasn't even painted yet.

The cloth was then pulled from his face and a man smacked him across the face, pulling him back into reality. Tony coughed and coughed as water sputtered from his mouth. He greedily gasped for air, knowing that the cloth would be placed on him soon. Why did he always have to be right? Curse his intelligence.

The fifth time around, Tony's wrists and ankles were raw. There was still water in his lungs but he didn't have the strength to cough it up anymore. He gasped loudly, eyes clenched closed.

* * *

"I guess we're not in Kansas anymore," Clint whispered, his eyes quickly accessing the area. Natasha elbowed him angrily. "Ow," he mumbled.

It was musty and dark: the cliché lair of a villain. They could practically hear the eerie music in the background.

Already, Steve could see his teammates were anxious. One, they didn't have any of their weapons –although Bruce _is _a weapon, he always looks nervous anyways. Two, they weren't dressed for the occasion.

Thor began to call Mjolnir, but a dozen men in full body armor swarm the room. They all result to brutal hand-to-hand combat. Natasha saved her dagger for when it might get ugly, which she hoped will never happen. They easily take out the men, leaving with a few minor scratches. Steve signaled the team to find a way out before more of them show up; that little get-together wasn't exactly library material. He led the group down a corridor, away from distant shouting. They swiftly entered a storage room, riddled with blueprints and unfinished structures.

"They're building portals," Bruce whispered as he scans through the papers.

Thor growled under his breath, prompting the others for an unpleasant flashback. One portal nearly wiped out an entire city. They shuddered at the thought of twenty or so portals.

"We can't stay here," Steve reminded them, picking up the pace. The others follow him into a dimly light room.

In the middle of the room lay Tony, bound by his hands and feet. Even in the dark, Bruce is able to see his lips were blue, and his chest was barely rising. His eyes flashed green, and he could feel his heart pound.

"Man of iron!" Thor called out, running to the table. Bruce followed as him and Clint and Natasha cautiously checked the room for booby traps and cameras.

A wave of nausea passed over Steve as he got the feeling that something is horribly wrong. The place seemed to have gotten alarmingly quiet. "Guys," he called out, and everyone stopped and turned to him as the worry had seeped into his voice. They didn't get to hear what the captain was about to say because the captain never got to say it. Before anything had happened, another flash of light had consumed them yet again.

* * *

**SM: **Updates...all in good time, my friends.


	3. Chapter 3

Bam. They were on an island. How big? Who knows.

It was long past dinner time, and team was growing weary. The stars gleamed brightly against the violet skies without the usual light pollution of civilization. The soft splash of water created a rhythmic symphony as the waves receded and then invaded the shore. Away from the waters began the opening of a buffet of diverse flora –thousands of trees and flowers competing for living space.

Regardless of the beauty of the land, they shared an irritated, confused facial expression. Whattaya know, they're matching. Add some sparkly coats and this _super-secret boy band and one girl_ would really hit it off with the fans.

Bruce ran over to Tony, who was lying in the sand. He fell on his knees, checked for a pulse and gave thanks to _all_ the deities (hell, he was a grateful man) with an audible sigh of relief. The glowing arc reactor was visible through his t-shirt, and that reassured him, but it wasn't enough. The blue tinge on Tony's lips was more obvious, spreading around his mouth.

Natasha quickly came as Bruce placed his ear near Tony's mouth. "H-he's not breathing," he looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed. Immediately, she kneeled next to him. Her eyes met Bruce's; Tony wasn't going to die because she couldn't stand to see that anguished, devastated look from Bruce a second time. She pinched his nose and lifted his chin; her heart sunk realizing how cold his skin was. Her lips came down to seal around his mouth. She gave one long breath and lifted her head to watch as his chest rose and fell back again. _Nothing_. A second, third, fourth try and she was beginning to lose hope.

"C'mon Stark," Steve muttered behind her. He uneasily pinched the inside of his palms with his fingers.

Again, she drew in a large breath and exhaled, and in the corner of her eye she saw his hand twitch. Tony slowly started to stir and she shook him by the shoulders. The first cough brought relief to them all. Suddenly, Tony began weakly coughing up water and Bruce gently pulled him to lie on his side, patting his back. His eyes were still closed as his coughing eventually turned into feeble gasps for air.

Now that the group was back together, they could rest easy –for a few minutes.

* * *

They stood around, staring down at their own respective object.

"Uhm, where the hell are we?" Clint finally said, breaking the silence. He took out the phone that he had _borrowed_ to find that there was no signal. "Well?" he asked, looking at Natasha.

Natasha looked at Steve and Steve looked at Bruce and Bruce looked at Thor. Thor shrugged.

"Well, we're not in Kansas anymore," a voice rasped out. They looked down to see Tony, who was sitting up, examining his wrists. Clint cocked his head around to glare at Natasha, who then elbowed him again. He pouted and rubbed his side.

Bruce's doctor senses tingled again, and he crouched down to check Tony's pulse. Annoyed, Tony slapped his hand away as he tried to get up. Bruce kept a hand on his back, worried about how Tony was out of breath just trying to get up.

He looked around. Everyone looked back.

"That's mine," he murmured, pointing at the phone in Clint's hand. Clint gave him the cheekiest grin he could muster up, putting the thing back in his pocket. "Why are you all dressed like the Brady Bunch?" he panted, breathing loudly. His foot shifted back only slightly, but it was enough for Natasha to notice he was losing his balance.

Steve was wearing his usual crème slacks with a neat light blue, short sleeved polo. Clint and Natasha wore their typical uniform: a plain t shirt, nylon training pants, and gym shoes. Bruce wore his notorious violet collared shirt hidden under a dark jacket.

Then there was Thor. After weeks of insistence, Tony was at last able to convince him to buy regular Midgardian clothes. He sported some dark jeans and a tee, looking rather comfortable.

"We were at the headquarters when someone transported us," Steve explained.

"Son of Stark, who is to be blamed for our arrival here?" Thor said heatedly, his fists clenched tightly causing the veins in his arms to become more noticeable.

Honestly, he had no idea. "Honnesss…I haaave nooo'dea." Wow that sounded odd. Maybe he shouldn't have stood up, because he could feel the blood rushing from his head. He could probably go a bit further and say that the blood was now pooled into his feet, because they felt unusually warm. Maybe it was the socks he was wearing. Gosh, he was losing it. Bruce had been staring down at his shoes the entire conversation, but hearing Tony slur made him look up.

"Well we could just walk around until I get some reception on my phone," Clint suggested, annoyed to see that Tony wasn't bothered by his claim. In fact, he wasn't even listening.

Tony closed his eyes and shook his head, hoping the tunnel vision would fade. "It's too dark to do anything now," Steve interrupted, "We need to find a place to camp out."

"Unless we get transported again," Clint retorted.

"Thor, call your hammer," Steve said, ignoring Clint. Obedient, Thor lifted his arm and concentrated, closing his eyes.

"We should stay close to the beach," Bruce finally offered, and Steve nodded approvingly.

Thor let his hand down, looking sullen. "Mjolnir is too far," he spoke at appropriate indoor volume, far too quiet for him though.

"Try again later," Steve clapped him on the shoulder. "Come with me to get some firewood," he said. Steve and Thor jogged toward the forest, disappearing into the trees.

"And now we wait," Clint narrated, as he flopped down onto the floor pulling out his phone. He had yet to go through every feature of the phone.

Natasha glanced over at Bruce, who was fidgeting the end his shirt nervously. She looked up at Tony, who was wheezing softly, his eyes glazed.

"Stark, you okay?" she asked, but he didn't respond, continuing to stare at nothing.

Bruce put a hand on his shoulder and gripped it, "Tony…" he was cut off as Tony's legs gave out and he fell limply in Bruce's arms. He lowered him down into the sand, noting his shaking hands.

"M'kaay," he said, going into a coughing fit. He scooted over to sit next to Clint, watching him amuse himself with _his_ phone.

"Could you not breathe so loudly?" Clint joked.

"You'rree an asss," he wheezed out, "hole."

"I don't even know what the hell you're saying."

Tony replied plainly by coughing onto the phone and all over Clint's hands. "Aww!" he whined. Tony tried to remember why he hadn't hung out with Clint earlier. He made a mental note that Hawkeye would indeed be an excellent pranking buddy –his esteemed partner in crime.

Natasha pulled Bruce away from the two. "What's the damage report on Stark?" she asked quietly.

"Um…from what I can tell, he definitely has some brain damage from oxygen deficiency –he was out for too long." Bruce glimpsed over at Tony and then back at Natasha. "We just need to keep a close eye on him. Symptoms could vary depending on where the damage is located." She nodded. "In the meantime, we need to make sure his lungs are clear of any water before develops pneumonia…"

Tony's coughing fit had come back full-force. His chest rattled as he inhaled, and his coughs sounded much wetter than before. Bruce swiftly came to his side and tapped his back with an open palm. "You have to get all that water out of your lungs Tony," he warned. Tony didn't have enough time to catch his breath before the urge to cough crept up again, making him gasps in between weak coughs.

"I'm _cough_ savin' _cough_ it _cough_," he said. Clint couldn't help but smirk.

He could feel the water in his lungs every time he took a breath, but he couldn't gather enough strength to cough it up. Soon, he was light headed and gave up trying.

Thor and Steve returned shortly after the scene with armfuls of branches. Setting them down in a pile, Steve pulled out some shrub in his pocket. He sat down in the sand and began to rub a twig in his hand, twisting it onto another. Eventually, there was a pile of coal residue in which he placed into the shrub and began blowing carefully. Thor's jaw dropped as he gazed at the smoke beginning to rise from the shrub.

"Sssince when d'you," he let out a painfully wet cough, clutching his chest, "…b'comee a…girll scoutt?" Clint playfully nudged Tony, giggling childishly. Tony smiled back, but his smile faded as he coughed again. "Look Thor, betcha didn't know Captain America was also the god of fire," he added. Tony burst into another coughing fit as he laughed. He held out a fist and Clint bumped it, the two grinning at each other.

Steve ignored the two as he held the burning shrub and placed it into the pile of wood. Thor was like a fat child first discovering cake. The flames grew taller as he devoured the branches. Thor sat down beside the captain. "Friend Steve, you must demonstrate again how you have created these FLAMES!" he bellowed. "Sure thing," he chuckled.

"Guys, looks like we'll be spending the night here," Steve announced, "Get some rest so we can figure it all out tomorrow morning." Natasha sat down by the fire, and pulled Bruce's arm, inviting his to sit down as well. They all laid in the sand, listening to the crackling of the wood.

"Giive mee…thaa phonee," Tony whispered to Clint, who handed it over to him.

"Don't use up all the batteries," he warned. Tony glared at him and responded by coughing in his face. "Quit that," he said, wiping his face. Clint turned over to Natasha, who was on her back, staring at the sky.

Tony sluggishly loaded up some programs on the device which took longer than he wanted with is trembling hands. He calculated magnetic pull, altitude, barometric pressure –anything to give him a sense of where they were. He had no clue. He put the phone down and began to examine the stars, frustrated when he realized that none of them were in formation of anything. Where the hell were they sent to?

* * *

"Bruce. Bruce. Bruce. _Cough, _Broooce."

Bruce was woken abruptly as he felt a sharp finger repeatedly poking him in the side of his head. He opened his eyes to find Tony's upside down face hovering above him. He sat up and put his glasses on, turning around to Tony. "W-what wrong Tony? Are you in pain? You okay?" he panicked.

"Yahhh, m'fine," he reassured, seeing the glimmer of green in his eyes fade away.

"Well, what is it then?" Bruce said, letting out a sigh and anxiously scratched his five o'clock shadow. Tony's eyes wandered as he fought to remember why he had woken Banner up in the first place. He rubbed his chin and stared off into the darkness. Bruce waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

"Uhm…s'been almossst nine hourss… en tha sunn isn't upp," he slurred. Bruce caught on immediately, which was why Tony thought he'd save some strength and tell him first. At least then he wouldn't have to repeat it to everyone else.

"Guys, wake up," Bruce said, worried. He never was one to raise his voice. And when he did, he was green and he only roared. But Natasha, having incredibly sensitive ears heard him, and she sat up.

"Cap, Thor, Clint," she said loudly, and they stirred. She looked down to see Clint fast asleep, and slapped him across the face. She could see Tony chuckling behind while Clint jerked awake, and hand rubbing his cheek.

Steve sat up and rubbed his eyes, confused. It was still dark, and the fire had died down a bit. "What's going on?"

"Tony's been tracking the earth's rotation and well...the sun was supposed to rise nearly an hour ago," Bruce explained, as Tony swallowed. Natasha noticed the deep bags under Tony's eyes; he obviously had been up all night figuring out where they were.

They all looked around. "Soo…you're saying that the sun is late?" Clint replied, scratching his head.

Tony face-palmed.

"No, it means that it's not _our_ sun," Bruce explained, but the crew didn't display the expected reaction, meaning that they had no idea what he was saying.

"We'ree inn tha wrongg fuckin' universsse yaa idiotss," Tony blurts out.

* * *

**SM:** Use your imagination to bulk this up. I can't bring myself to write a long chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

The crew had been sitting in the dark, watching the flames burn out. A dim light began to glow above the horizon, and still no one had any idea what to do. With no equipment, no weapons, no technology, they were good as dead.

"So Thor…I'm hoping you paid attention in science class," Clint said nonchalantly. He sat cross legged facing the fire and threw sand pebbles into the fire, making it flicker and sparkle.

Thor gave him a blank look. "Do you know where we are?" Steve clarified, praying for an enthused _Yes, friend Steve_.

"No, friend Steve," Thor replied. _Damn_. Steve let out an exasperated breath.

"Well it's not cold, so we know there has to be some sort of star in orbit," Bruce explained, "…but this planet's substantially bigger than earth considering its night is longer."

Tony nodded in agreement –well, he thought he did. He thought he said something witty in response, too. In actuality, he was sitting with his legs out in front of him, staring down at his hands, not blinking.

"You know any giant sized earths?" Clint asked Thor, who shook his head disappointingly. He joined Clint and tossed a handful of sand into the fire.

"It doesn't matter where we are if we can't leave," Natasha finally spoke up, causing the rest of the team to collectively give a silent _oh…yeah_.

They looked at each other, upset. Bruce scratched his head and waited for the awkward silence to break. Clint's stomach growled loudly and he smiled, patting his belly. "What's for breakfast Cap?"

Steve took some branches and fed them to the fire. "Water looks pretty shallow," he said looking at the reefs. The tide had been pulled back and the water was indeed shallow enough to see the cream colored sand beneath it. By now, there was enough sunlight to tell that they weren't alone at the beach. Even from the shore Steve was able to spot schools of fish making their way across.

"Friend Steve, I cannot eat the water," Thor said apprehensively, as he too, was starving.

"Just come with me," he replied, walking towards the beach.

Clint took a thick branch and stripped the leaves. "Hey, let me use your knife," he asked Natasha. She just stared at him, refusing to answer. "C'mon Tasha, I know you always have one," he wailed. She pulled up the leg of her gym pants and _lo and behold_: a small knife, strapped to her ankle. She threw it him and it landed in the sand, in-between his legs. His eyebrows shot up as he looked down at how closely he could have been…sterilized.

Bruce couldn't hold back his chuckle. Clint stuck his tongue at her, took the knife and started to carve the end into a point.

Natasha glanced over at Tony, who was looking incredibly pathetic as his head slumped down to rest on his chest, his eyelids drooping. She pointed at him to get Bruce's attention. He got down on one knee and placed hand on Tony's shoulder, "Hey bud, lay down." Instead, Tony's eyes opened and he looked up to find Clint with a pile of wood shavings in his lap and Natasha and Bruce watching at him. He planted his hands behind him in an attempt to get up, but Bruce's grasp on his shoulder pushed him back down.

"I haave a plaan," he muttered incoherently, and pointed the phone placed next to Clint.

"No, you need to sleep," Natasha stepped in front of him, blocking his view. Tony shifted side to side to catch a glimpse at the phone, but her legs followed him.

Giving up, Tony turned to look at Bruce. His bottom lip quivered as he whimpered. Bruce ignored his puppy face and took off his jacket. "She's right; your brain needs time to heal itself," he said without making eye contact. Bruce folded his jacket and placed it behind Tony. "Get some rest," he said.

He had a great comeback. It was clever and original and…well, he forgot. "No," was all he said with a smug expression, satisfied. Natasha went over and grabbed the phone, holding it above the fire.

"Hey!" Clint cried at her.

Tony looked up at her and put his hands up in submission. Natasha wasn't a force to be messed with, and he knew it. Without saying a word, he laid his head on Bruce's jacket and closed his eyes. He figured he'd shut his eyes and wait it out, sneaking the phone when they had their backs turned. Within a few moments he actually fell asleep, snoring softly.

Clint stood up, admiring his newly carved weapon. He brushed off the shavings and pointed the knife at Natasha. "Next time, just ask if you need to use my phone," he said angrily at her. When his tone didn't faze her, he opted for the effective threatening rebuttal. "Love you too!" he called out as he ran off to catch fish with Thor and Steve.

The sun was slowly making its way across the sky, and the light illuminated the area. It would have been an amazing vacation site. In the distance, Thor and Steve were diving in the water, catching fish with their bare hands and tossing it to shore. Shortly after, Natasha went over to collect them.

Bruce came over and looked through Tony's phone, trying to figure out what his plan was. There was a load of files open, containing meticulous calculations and diagrams that he didn't quite understand. Whatever Tony was working on, Bruce was impressed that he actually had done so much in one night. Bruce checked to see what the others were doing and a small smile crept up his face. Clint stood on small rock and impaled fish with his new weapon while Steve and Thor splashed in the water. On the shore, Natasha had gathered a pile of flopping fish.

The sound of Tony's wheezing pulled him from his musing, but after quickly checking up on the billionaire, he dismissed it. He knew without a doubt that Tony would develop some form of pneumonia after what had happened, but didn't want to dwell on the odds, hoping that they'd be home long before anything got worse.

Natasha returned with a handful of fish, all different species and sizes. "I'm going with Clint to find some water," she said. Bruce nodded and took the fish, skewering them with a stick. Natasha whistled for Clint, who then dove into the water and quickly swam back to shore. He shuffled his way through the thick sand, and shook his hair dry.

"I think I should let my shirt dry off while we're away," he said, slowly peeling off his wet shirt. Natasha rolled her eyes and began walking towards the forest. Clint dropped his shirt in the sand and looked at Bruce. "Eh? EH?" he said flexing his arms and posing. Bruce looked extremely uncomfortable and turned his head away. Clint shrugged and ran off to catch up with Natasha.

* * *

Bruce was taken away at the beauty of the sky. Only after the sunrise was he able to see that the scenery was brightened by not one, but _two_ suns, fairly distant from them. The orange glow of the two stars blended gorgeously into the purple sky. It was earth 2.0.

All the fish were slowly cooking over the fire, and Thor and Steve were already coming back with more. He held out two stakes with several cook fish and handed them to his mates, who immediately dropped their morning catch on the floor. They sat down and began devouring loudly.

"This morning ritual is quite exciting!" Thor exclaimed as he bit into the fish, bones and all.

Bruce smiled as he skewered the rest of the fish and placed them over the fire.

"Where did Natasha and Clint go?" Steve asked, still looking down at his meal as he ate.

"They went off to find water," Bruce answered.

Aside from the chaos of being relocated into another solar system, everything was going well, and he felt at ease. He sat and closed his eyes as he meditated, taking deep, long breaths. The crackling of the fire, the noisy smacking of lips, the whoosh of waves –they were all somehow serene. But amidst noise and clamor there was one sound that had escaped his sensitive ears. His eyes opened and he felt his heart pounding again, realizing what was missing. Bruce turned to look at Tony; he couldn't hear his labored breathing anymore. He pleaded that Tony had gotten better, and placed a hand over his friend's mouth and nose. The silence nearly stopped his heart. "Tony," he called out, shaking him by the shoulders. Tony's head lolled to one side, but still he laid motionless. "Tony!" he yelled this time, and Thor and Steve dropped their breakfast and ran quickly to Bruce. "Dammit Tony!" Bruce cried out, his voice cracking. He shook him harder this time, and then hesitantly back-handed him across the face.

Tony's eyes opened and he gasped for air. He gripped his shirt as he struggled breathe, his chest heaving. Bruce helped him into a sitting position, clapping him on the shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, regretting that he even bothered to ask as he watched Tony struggle to catch his breath. Tony just nodded and patted Bruce on the back, a gestured _thank you_.

"What's going on?" a shirtless Clint asked as he came back with Natasha. He grabbed a stake from the fire and started picking at the flesh.

"Stark stopped breathing while he was sleeping," Steve said, picking up his own stick and shaking out the sand.

"You alright?" Natasha asked, looking down at him.

"Fantastic, sweetheart," he shot her with finger guns and gave her an exaggerated smolder.

"Don't call me that," she said unamused, walking over to Clint to share some food. Clint and Tony shared a smirk from across the bonfire.

"Well at least now we can pinpoint the location of injury to the medulla," Bruce reported, grab a fish of his own. He picked from it timidly, distracted by his thoughts.

"In _english_ Banner," Clint mumbled with his mouth full, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"The medulla regulates autonomic functions," Tony said, rubbing his face with his hands. He may have caught no more than half an hour of sleep, and it was starting to take its toll.

"…and the autonomic portion controls involuntary actions like breathing," Bruce added. The crew continued eating their fish. "He just needs to take it easy for a while and it'll heal itself," he hoped that was all that needed to heal.

"It's like a deadly sleep apnea," Tony noted. Bruce's face scrunched as he was rendered confused, wondering how Tony could possibly joke around at a time like that.

"…or a heroin overdose without the high," Clint murmured. Tony raised his hand and the two air-fived each other.

They all had some peace around the fire, each one eating fish and occasionally taking a second look at the sky. Bruce offered Tony some food, but he didn't have an appetite. He dexterously began taking apart his phone, much to Clint's protests and fist-shaking.

After what seemed like an eternity, Steve couldn't hold in his curiosity any longer. "Stark," he called out across the fire.

"Capsicle," Tony replied, still focusing on his project.

Steve hesitated, "Tony... what happened to you back there?" The others abruptly stopped eating and looked over at Tony, who stopped working on his phone.

* * *

**SM: **Suggestions welcomed. I have no idea where I'm going with this.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce gulped nervously, looking around to find that he wasn't the only one on edge. He had spent the vast majority of his stay at the Avengers headquarters locked up in his office, but Bruce was not one to be oblivious of the matter. The few encounters between Steve and Tony that he had witnessed was enough to know they'd never share the same breathing air, let alone have a civil conversation without busted lips and black eyes.

He _really_ didn't want to find out how this would end.

Natasha was more alert, and although she was rarely around (and so they thought), nothing ever happened without her knowing –that is, Natasha and Jarvis. She was fully aware of bitterness between the two, but recalled the moment when things had escalated that far.

They had just gotten back after a rather long meeting with Fury aboard the helicarrier, and if the team had somehow missed the fact that it was long, they were reminded by Tony every ten minutes…for three hours. Surely the conference would have taken no longer than an hour, but they had to factor in the mid-meeting false alarms, security breaches, and intercom hacks that blasted Black Sabbath's _Iron Man_. Even after the director had confiscated a dozen devices, Tony would somehow be suspiciously fiddling with another one underneath the table.

After being dismissed, he had taken the liberty of becoming the unofficial 'silencer' during the entire jet ride back. His sole duty was that no moment of silence would tarnish the ear of any passenger, easily accomplished via his notorious incomprehensible rambling. From that point, any level of tolerance left had been diminished and drained.

And now, the _dismount_.

Inside a secret compartment of the private jet Tony had stashed approximately five pounds of marijuana. The team had made a career out of ignoring him, so no one particularly noticed when he rolled himself a fat cannabis cigar. Granted, the supply was hidden in the jet's restroom, and Tony had his way with the joint with the door shut. Eventually, that distinct smoked skunk smell began to leak, and they all breathed through their mouth and waited impatiently for the damn plane to land. Everyone knew what Tony was doing in there; everyone but Thor, who interpreted Bruce's "You don't want to know" as a horrendous case of explosive diarrhea.

All was somewhat manageable until the moment they all had to ride the last half hour of the trip with the fire alarm's deafening sirens in their ears, all the while the restroom door was still deemed 'occupied'. When the jet landed, Clint and Natasha were the first to evacuate the death trap, with Thor and Bruce close on their heels. Steve picked up a phone under Bruce's seat before making his way out, turning in time to see the restroom door slide open and a thick cloud vent from the room.

Steve began by scolding Tony, who retaliated with a sly comment about how he was a fun killer. Their screaming was out of view of the others, but not out of hearing range. Boiled down, Steve noted that if Tony was just a tiny bit like his father, he'd be a great man.

As the argument heated up, the rest of the team came back quickly to find Steve with a broken nose, choking Tony out as he continued to swing his bloody fists.

That day went down unmentioned in the Avengers' history.

* * *

Tony watched as Bruce shifted uncomfortably in the sand, and Clint tapped his fingers uneasily. There were many ways he could have answered that question, and giving a serious response didn't even register in his top ten.

"There's a lot things you've missed Cap," he finally said after a long pause. "After the war, the axis powers secluded themselves from the rest of the world, provoking enormous organizations of spies to keep watch over other countries," he pointed at Natasha, "Exhibit A." She skillfully spun her knife around each individual finger, eyeing him menacingly. "Well, then there was this new method of interrogation: waterboarding," he went back to tampering with the spare parts of the phone.

"Waterboarding?" Steve looked over to Natasha for an explanation.

"You know, _cough_ that sport where you ride waves on a wooden board," Tony pounded his chest to clear his lungs, "It's too much fun, makes life dull in comparison, _cough _and eventually you _cough cough_…" The coughs were deep and wet, and he doubled over to cough into the collar of his shirt.

"Eventually you kill yourself," Clint finished. He scooted away from Natasha to avoid the elbow that he knew was so imminent.

"Amen," Tony added, trying to keep a straight face.

Natasha groaned in annoyance. "They strap you to a table –a board, and cover your nose and mouth with a towel. They pour water over the towel and the victim is basically drowning, except they don't die. Sessions can last for hours until they get the info they need," she clarified.

"When the brain goes through long periods of oxygen deprivation, it deteriorates and malfunctions," Bruce added. He had resided in numerous countries, mainly poverty-stricken, in which civilians lacked the protection they needed from their government. He had plenty of patients who were tortured in the same technique, and none got off scott-free. "Most victims don't die when being interrogated, but they usually develop nasty infections in the lungs from _excess_ water," he said turning to Tony.

"Details," he rasped out, holding in a cough.

"But will he survive?" Thor said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He was the only one still eating. The man had the appetite of a thousand cows.

"He seems to be okay," Bruce answered.

"I _seem_ to be great," Tony corrected.

"As far as injuries go, he should be back to normal in a couple of days. In the meantime, he needs to be watched at all times."

"You better leave me alone," he warned.

"And if he does stop breathing, wake him up."

"That's optional." Bruce shot him irritated look. Tony smiled and tousled his curly hair like a dog, only to have Bruce then smack his hand away.

"Right…anyways, if anyone is thirsty at all," Clint flexed his arms as he pointed to the forest, "I will gladly be your tour guide." Natasha picked up his shirt on the floor and threw it at him. He slowly put it on, grunting as he contracted his abdominal muscles.

Thor and Steve got up and began walking with Clint. Bruce stood up and offered a hand down to Tony. He grinned and tapped his chest, "I think I've had enough water for one day."

"Suit yourself," Bruce gave up and followed Clint, leaving him in Natasha's eye.

"Gladly. The Mark 8 will be painted green and purple." He always had to have the last word.

* * *

"As you look to your left, you will see gorgeous redwoods and orangewoods and bluewoods…all sorts of woods everywhere," Clint said in his professional tour guide voice, enunciating _ev-er-ree sing-gul let-tur_.

The others followed him in silence, marveling at the wildlife all around them. There were bustling sounds of chirping and croaking, and rustling of leaves from startled critters as they walked. The trees creating an enormous amount of shade; it was much cooler there than it was on the beach. In the distance, Clint continued to babble on and on about the scenery, commenting with facts he had made up in his head.

Moments later, they could hear the splash of running water and was soon led to the side of a large creek. Bruce came down at the opening, cupped his hands and sipped the cool water. He looked over to his right to find Thor with his entire face in the water, and couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"We should move over here," Steve looked around, "It's getting too hot back there."

Bruce agreed. The suns had already risen hours ago, but it was barely noon. Since the night had lasted for so long, it was only logical that the daytime would be just as long.

"I'll go get Tony and Natasha," Bruce offered, wiping his mouth with his arm.

Behind them, leaves were crunched and rustled. "Tasha?" Clint called out, walking to the noise.

"Wait," Steve called out, pulling him by the back of his collar.

A low growl echoed out, and two yellow eyes appeared from the bushy leaves. "I guess we're having some sort of bearwolf for dinner," Clint joked, holding his spear tightly. He looked over at Thor who grinned excitedly.

"We need it out in the open first," Steve reminded them. He picked up a small rock and threw it toward the animal. The bushes rustled only slightly, prompting him to throw another pebble. Suddenly, the branches crackled and an enormous furry beast lunged forward, roaring. It was a grey-furred bear with pointy, erect ears –a bearwolf*, if you may.

Hey, Clint was right.

"Hey, I was right!" Clint squealed at the site of the thing. His scream caught the bearwolf's attention and it pounced on top of him, knocking him over. He held out his spear horizontally, keeping its mouth from chomping down on him. Angrily, it swung its paw at him, slashing the side of his face.

Thor ran and tackled the bearwolf from the side, punching it in the face.

"You okay?" Steve ran over, pulling Clint up off the ground.

"Yea, but is this okay?" Clint asked, circling his face with his finger.

Ignoring Clint's bloody face, Steve ran over to help Thor beat the bearwolf into a pulp.

"Bruce, we could use a little…green," Clint called out to him, who was just standing by the creek, his hands in his pockets.

"Uh, I-I didn't bring extra pants," he said miserably.

"Just go get Natasha then!" Clint resolved. He took some rocks and threw them at the bearwolf's head while Steve held it in a headlock and Thor repeatedly kicked it in the guts.

Bruce ran as quickly as he could back to the beach. He knew those three could handle a bear and a wolf, so how bad could one bearwolf be?

"Natasha!" he called out before getting to the sand. She stood up and watched him run to her. "Uh, the guys are fighting this bear and…" he panted. Before he could finish, she had already taken off. "Be careful," he said, certain the she probably didn't hear him.

"Steve said we should spend the rest of the day by the creek over there," Bruce said to Tony, who was sitting by the fire, working on his phone. "When we get there, you should go back to sleep."

Tony picked out some scraps and held them over the fire, holding one side with the end of his shirt. Just as the edge of the metal started to melt, he smothered it onto some open wires of the circuit board.

"So what was this _brilliant_ plan you were babbling about?" Bruce asked, watching him work. Maybe he'd respond to something remotely worth discussing.

"I wasn't _babbling_," he said softly. "…and, this," he lifted up the _thing_, "is a satellite."

Tony was known to be ambitious, but this had to be the most impossible idea yet, Bruce thought. "How would you get out it into orbit?" Bruce pointed out.

"Don't need to," he mumbled, "Just need it powered long enough for Jarvis to track us."

Maybe it wasn't as crazy as he thought. He continued to watch Tony rewire the microchips, lights flashing on the screen. Tony held the pieces in his hand and waited a while before letting out a shaky sigh.

"What's wrong?" he asked, realizing how quiet he had been. Perhaps building a satellite wasn't such a grand idea after all. A lot of Stark inventions never left the planning table, and this may not have been an exception.

"C-can't breathe…" he said under his breath before coughing weakly, dropping his invention.

Bruce was caught off guard by his response. He scuttled over to him, and slapped him rhythmically on the back. Tony began wheezing loudly, and Bruce mentally kicked himself for being more adamant about infection. He rested his ear on Tony's chest, and patted him on the back. Bruce was worried this might happen. He could barely hear the muffle thump of his hand. "Your lungs are building up too much sputum," he said. "Cough."

And cough he did. What concerned Bruce even more was that he didn't even bother to make a clever remark before ultimately rejecting. He just…did it. Each cough made Bruce wince, but he firmly patted Tony's back to help clear the mucus. As Tony struggled to catch his breath, dark curtains began closing in on his vision. His coughs became weaker and weaker, until slumped forward, losing consciousness.

"No, Tony…" Bruce whispered hopelessly. As hard as he could, he hit Tony on the back, open-palmed. "Tony," he said again. Bruce waited for a response, and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Eventually, a dark red substance began dripping out of Tony's mouth, and he could feel his lungs clearing up. He was able to inhale enough to start coughing again. With all the strength he could pull together, he gave a couple of deep coughs, spraying bloody phlegm all over ground. "Ughh…" he said between gasps, flopped down onto his back. "Happy?" he wiped his mouth with his forearm and looked up at Bruce, who just sheepishly smiled.

His breaths were rapid and uneven, and Bruce roughly rubbed Tony's side, helping him slow down. "Easy, easy," he said placing a hand on top of his diaphragm, just below the reactor. The last thing he needed was for Tony to hyperventilate, pass out, and stop breathing all together. "Take it easy," he said, putting pressure on his hand.

A few exhausted inhales and frail coughs later, Tony was sitting up again, examining the satellite.

"We should go," Bruce advised. He was squinting now that the day had become awfully bright. He stood up and went behind Tony, pulling him to his feet by under his arms. Tony felt the rush of blood leave his head, and blinked his eyes to rid the dancing spots. As soon Bruce bent down to grab his jacket, Tony swayed and fell back down in the sand.

"I'm…a little drunk," he said, smiling. Bruce looked down at Tony, unenthused. "Sorry, that's my go-to response. It's a habit." He held out his hand as Bruce pulled him up again and brushed off the sand from his back. "How far?" he asked, following Bruce.

"Roughly a ten minute walk," he answered, staying in close proximity to the man.

"How about you Hulk out and give me a piggy back ride?" Tony insisted, hanging an arm around Bruce's shoulder.

"Keep walking." He could practically hear Tony angry pouting.

* * *

*a poorly photoshopped bearwolf for the imagination-impaired: **bit**.**ly**(forwardslash)**Mr01IA **. I know it is disproportioned; do not mock me.


	6. Chapter 6

Natasha swiftly ran, dodging leafy branches and hurdling over protruding roots. Her lifelong experience had trained her to maneuver silently and effortlessly. She was welcomed to the creek by the sounds of grunting and snarling. She pushed her way through some think bushes to find three grown men fighting a bear wolf hybrid. Steve put the beast in a full nelson hold while Thor threw solid punches in its stomach. Its neck was pierced by a javelin, _Clint_, but was still surprisingly alive. Clint, who was perched on top a ledge of a rocky mountain side, threw massive chunks of gravel into the bearwolf's mouth whenever it growled.

The site of Earth's Mightiest Heroes taking on one bear made her scoff. She casually walked over to the bearwolf and slit its throat with her knife.

"You're welcome," she said, walking off to wash her knife in the water.

Thor stopped punching and wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked up and was relieved to see that the animal was bleeding profusely from the neck. "ALAS, THE BEST IS DEFEATED!"

Steve continued to hold the bear until it became dead weight, dropping it into an enormous, furry pile. "Thanks," he went over to Natasha to wash his bloody hands. She nodded at him and then wiped her knife dry with her shirt.

"The thing was about to drop anyways. We did most of the work," Clint said, unimpressed. He jumped from the ledge and came towards the bear. Placing a foot on its neck, he anchored down and pulled out his spear.

"Have you looked at your face?" Natasha teased.

Clint's left side of his face was caked with dry blood from the scratches that ran from his eyebrow to his jaw. He gave her a wide smile that came out to be a lop-sided grin since his left side was virtually glued down.

Thor chuckled loudly and slapped Clint on the back, unintentionally knocking him forward. He stood up straighter and rested his fists on his hips, pleased with their hunt. "I must go off to relieve myself," he announced

The three stared at him.

"I will return in good time."

The trio continued to stare at him, baffled at why he felt it was at all necessary to notify them of his digestive callings, or why providing a time frame of return would reassure them.

With that, Thor made his way past the mountain, disappearing into the dense trees with a trail of loud stomping.

"Where did Bruce run off to?" Steve asked, kneeling down to wash his face.

"He's here," Natasha replied. Her trained ears had already located their near arrival.

Surely enough, out came Bruce followed by Tony who raised both of his hands.

"Really? I usually get more applause than that," he said dropping his arms. He scanned the area, ignoring the large fresh water river equipped with protection on one side by a rocky mountain and all around shade. His eyes quickly locked onto one red-cheeked man-child that was Clint Barton. He half jogged over to Clint, looking innocently around as if he had happened to stumble upon that particular area. He sat down in front of Clint, meeting face to face, and a subtle smile seeped into his gaze.

"How'd you kill the bear?" Bruce asked as he noticed the bloody mound of fur.

"Natasha," Steve replied simply. Bruce nodded, as it was a reasonable response. Steve chortled quietly and shook his head in disbelief of the silliness of the situation. He had just realized how all that brutal beating of a super soldier, a Norse god, and a highly trained assassin was quickly put to an end by a woman half his size. He then made his way over to the trees to gather more firewood, still chuckling at the thought.

When he finished checking to see if the bear was actually dead, Bruce decided that he should take a look at Clint's face. Tony was still staring at Clint with a slight smirk on his face.

"WHAT?!" Clint yelled at him, annoyed that Tony was still looking at him with that _stupid face_.

Natasha got up and figured that she'd do something other than listen to two kids argue. With the knife in her hand she swiftly and skillfully began to skin the bearwolf.

Bruce dampened his jacket in the water and gently wiped the crusty blood off of his face. "OWW!" Clint protested, tilting his head away. The cuts were not deep enough that it would require more than general rest, but Bruce still needed to make sure that they wouldn't get infected.

"Hold still." Bruce held Clint by the top of the head as he continued to clean the wound, dabbing firmly against his cheek.

"Okay, okay…" Clint surrendered, his head still cocked to the side. "Stop LOOKING at me!" He squawked at Tony, who was no longer able to restrain his taunting grin.

Steve piled the wood near the bear, listening to the commotion in the distant. He marveled at how Tony was able to aggravate Clint without even saying a word, but it was something that he'd never want to experience firsthand.

"MY FRIENDS, I HAVE BEEN ATTACKED!" Thor erupted out of trees. He bent down to show Bruce his hands, which were covered with porcupine quills, sticking out from every direction.

With a glance at Thor's hands, Tony fell back into the creek, bursting into uncontrollable laughter. His amusement caused Clint to giggle, wincing as his cheek rubbed against Bruce's jacket. Thor sat down next to the group, looked down at his hands, and started to chuckle.

"Wash your face," Bruce ordered Clint, and scurried over to help Thor. He grabbed Thor's wrists and examined his hands. "The quills will twist itself in deeper if we don't get them out now." Traveling across the world had given him much experience with almost every case of injury.

"You are very wise doctor Banner," Thor said, distracted by Natasha who was slicing racks of ribs from the bearwolf. He licked his lips as he continued to watch her.

"Thanks," Bruce said shyly. "Take his left hand," Bruce looked at Tony, who was still lying down in the creek, letting the water run around the contours of his upper body.

"Anything for you, doctor Banner." He sat up, ignoring that the back of his shirt and head were now soaked. Thor moved his other hand closer to Tony.

As Bruce continued to pull out the quills, he realized that Thor wasn't even paying attention. He was impressed by his high tolerance for pain. "So…um, how'd you end up like this?" he asked.

"The porcupine probably looks like a turtle without its shell," Tony held in a laugh, and Clint snickered.

"No friends, 'twas a different tale. I had encountered the animal, and went down to pet it, but its fur had clung onto my hand. Thus, I knelt down to pet it once more with my other hand." This time around, Clint fell back and burst into laughter, clutching his sides. Bruce let out a soft chuckle as he pulled out the rest of the quills.

"Damn nurse, could you take any longer?" Clint mocked. Bruce had already taken out the quills on Thor's right hand, while his left was still **thor**oughly covered.

"I'm squeamish," Tony lied. He couldn't concentrate enough to help Thor, and when he looked up at Bruce, he finally realized that it was because he was seeing double. "Would you care for seconds?" he asked, offering Thor's hand to Bruce.

* * *

It was late afternoon and the team had already gathered supplies needed to last them the night.

After Thor's constant begging to start the fire, Steve finally gave in. He was barely able to produce a slight hint of smoke as he gingerly rubbed a stick between his injured hands. Immediately, Thor dropped the stick at the very sight and fell forward onto both hands to observe the smoking bark.

"Hey, nice job on your first try!" Steve encouraged him.

"Thank you my friend," he said after a hearty laugh. He took the stick once again and concentrated on his hand motions, furrowing his eyebrows and grunting menacingly, as if to threaten the stick to light itself on fire.

Natasha had finished skinning the entire bearwolf, providing the group with an immense stock of ribs, steaks, and colossal drumsticks.

Clint had found that naked porcupine and roasted it over the fire, insisting that it would rather have been put out of its misery than live such a shameful life. Apparently, it wouldn't have been able to settle down with a nice porcupine gal and have nice porcupine children.

Bruce, on the other hand was more skillful in the culinary arts. He laid rows of tree branches on top of stones placed opposite each other, making a makeshift grill over the fire. Racks of meat were then placed on to the rows and barbequed over the flame. He had the honored please of sitting and patrolling the food, in order to discourage Thor's habit of eating raw bearwolf.

"DOCTOR BANNER, I AM–" he thundered, before quickly readjusting his voice. "I am awfully famished and stomach has been mourning," he declared. Thor may have come off as oblivious, but he was no fool. Bruce was the last person that he'd speak casually to, let alone raise his voice. He had made a mental note: when addressing Doctor Banner, one must always whisper.

"I know, we're all hungry. I just don't want anyone to contract extra-terrestrial parasites while we're here," Bruce explained as he flipped each slab of meat over. He wanted nothing more than to give the poor guy his damn drumstick, but he couldn't risk the possible hazards.

"I understand," Thor replied miserably. He took a seat beside Bruce's feet and waited eagerly.

Tony had been diligently working on his satellite, but quickly fell asleep as he had earlier been "…so rudely interrupted by the jolly green giant". Assuming that Tony would stay up all night, Bruce figured the best time to sleep was when the rest of them were awake. That way, at least they'd be able to wake him up if he went into respiratory arrest again.

* * *

Eventually the bearwolf meat was cooked, and everyone helped themselves. It was tough and gamey, nothing unexpected –especially to Thor.

"I SHALL GO AWAKEN THE MAN OF IRON!" Thor exclaimed, pointing to Tony from across the creek with the drumstick held in his hand. The meat was too delectable to pass up by anyone. It was evident that he was enjoying the dinner time meal the most.

Steve quickly swallowed his bite to get a word in. "Who knows how long he's gone without food," he noted. Bearwolf was nothing compared to his usual beef and corn casserole, but the new flavors weren't necessarily a negative factor either.

"No, let him sleep," Bruce shot back. They didn't argue, as he was the only one remotely knowledgeable health-wise. Bruce was self-conscious about his reply, upset that he may have come off too harsh. He uneasily picked at his portion and begged for someone to change the subject.

The area gradually began to fill with crickets chirping and frogs croaking as the suns slowly started to sink. Their loud munching blended in with the noises, and they all sat in _silence_, eating their meal.

"So…got any plans, cap? I think I've had enough wildlife for a lifetime," Clint broke the silence, mindlessly scratching several insect bites spread across his arm.

Steve looked up at Clint and simply shook his head. He was hoping that they could stay alive long enough for SHIELD to notice their absence and somehow beam them back to Earth. Natasha and Clint shared an _oh shit _glance with each other that translates somewhat as _unless someone harnesses the Tesseract's power again, we're stuck_. They had a great knack for those looks. It was essentially telepathy for assassins.

"Tony's building a satellite to notify Jarvis," Bruce said softly after waiting for the reply from Steve that never came.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Clint stood up. "There's this new detective show that airs this week," he continued as he broke out of the campfire circle, presumably to go wake Tony up.

Natasha effortlessly grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him back. He unwillingly sat back down, arms crossed, as he murmured terrible things about her.

As the night came, their camaraderie became more evident as they chatted on and on about the littlest things: their ideal super power, favorite animal, what they hated most about Fury. They even tried to calculate the exact age of Thor in human years.

"I have this theory," Clint introduced, "…Fury works part time as pirate." His statement ultimately was ignored by all, as they continued as if nothing had spoken in the first place.

Their conversations carried on late into the night, and Steve was the first to turn in. The others quickly followed, lying around the fire.

Soon enough, it was time for Tony to wake up. He had a restless sleep, constantly fighting the urge to cough. When he had finally sat up, he was able to feel all of the accumulated phlegm that he should have coughed up periodically throughout his sleep. It made his chest uncomfortably tight, and he struggled to take in a deep breath. He realized that he had fallen asleep on the other side of the creek, away from the campfire. Tony coughed, hacking out bloody mucus onto the floor. He kept his eyes on the others on the other side of the creek, hoping that he didn't wake them.

"We left you some food," a soft voice croaked out.

Tony looked down to find that Bruce had been sleeping a few feet away from him the entire time. The fire was kept to scare off any potential animal attacks, and it was obvious that Bruce was worried that Tony had fallen asleep nowhere near the fire.

"I had a sandwich," he said, going into a coughing fit. "…that bitch," he snarled.

Bruce supposed that Tony was feverish and therefore delirious. After all, he had just identified an ordinary lunch meal with having similar characteristics with that of a female dog. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused, and laid back down.

"Sorry I woke you," he whispered. Facing Bruce made his reactor's light shine on his face, causing him to squint. "Sorry," he said again and promptly turned away.

"It's fine," Bruce assured sleepily.

Tony picked up the satellite and moved a bit further away from Bruce. He sat by a flat rock and set down the device. It would have taken too much effort to start another fire, although he knew Thor would have been stoked. Instead, he split his shirt a little, revealing the reactor. A blue light brightly lit on the surface of the rock, and Tony began finishing up his satellite. Since he had taken apart the battery, Tony knew that he'd have to power the thing with the arc reactor, which was no big deal considering the reactor had enough energy to power his heart over seventy lifetimes. One tiny little satellite may cost him three hours, or approximately the length of one Lord of the Rings movie, which he could gladly spare.

The night dragged on, and as his teammates fell into a deeper sleep, Tony got closer and closer to finishing his satellite. He hadn't kept tracked of how long he had been stripping miniscule wires and twisting them onto others, but it sure had been a long time because his back cracked as he sat up from his slumped position.

He got up and went over to the dying fire, cautiously tip toeing around the sprawled bodies. He carefully held a strip of metal over the flame until it liquefied. He held the dripping strip over the exposed wires and promptly made his way back to his laboratory rock. Now all he needed to do was run a couple of tests while it was powered up. The thought of him being reunited with Jarvis, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You made him grin.

* * *

Natasha woke to the faint sounds of rustling and panting. She nudged Clint only to find that he too, had been awaken by the noises.

"Cap, Thor," Natasha said in a low voice as she went over to wake them.

"Greetings fair lady," Thor mumbled as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, uncertain about whether or not he wanted to hear the answer considering the previous night's news.

"Something's coming," Clint said, reaching for his spear.

"It's the smell," Natasha pointed to the unfinished bearwolf carcass decorated with bloody heaps of fur and made her way across the creek.

"Bruce, wake up," she tapped his shoulder and nearly cried when his eye lids opened to reveal non-green eyes. By now, the swift thumping of the ground was increasingly audible.

"Miss Natashalie, explain to me why you have interrupted the crew's beauty sleep," Tony inquired with his eyes still glued on to his project.

All of a sudden, five hellhounds ominously emerged from the trees. Their towering frame and thick black coat was hidden within the dark, with only pairs of red eyes to account for.

"That's why." It was all that she could manage to say. Natasha didn't even bother to threaten the man for calling her by the wrong name, as the resulting answer was enough threat in itself.

"What now Spangly…" Tony said calmly as he gradually slipped the satellite into his pocket. The campground soon was smothered by snarling and menacing growling as the hounds crept closer to the team.

Steve began to inch away, pleading that they'd settle for the bearwolf leftovers. As they uninterestedly passed over the food, it became clearer of their intent. Steve's heart pounded, and he winced at the sound, certain that the creatures would have heard it.

"We run."

* * *

**SM:** I'm a bit slow. I don't have much motivation. I need the approval of strangers.


	7. Chapter 7

Hungry demonic dogs. _Check_.

No armor or weapons for protection. _Check_

Sleepy. _Check_.

Clint held his breath as the dogs crept towards them, bracing himself for when they might leap up onto him and ruin the other side of his face.

The pack had come from the ocean front, and there was nowhere to flee but deeper into the woods. At the initiation of Steve's command, the team quickly transitioned from a state of scared stiff to a full-on sprint. Steve pushed ahead to lead his team, hoping that their sudden escape had confused the dogs enough to give them a head start.

"What do we do?!" Clint panicked as one of the dogs came menacingly close to biting off both of his ankles.

Steve panned the dimmed area desperately for anything that could help them, but it was difficult to anything beyond a few yards. His eyes quickly settled on an enormous tree with thick, horizontal branches. "Over there!" he yelled back, pointing to their new destination.

"I HOPE THESE BEASTS ARE NOT CAPABLE OF CLIMBING SUCH HEIGHT!" Thor shouted from behind. He had taken on the duty of being the group's _heavy_ –the bulky bodyguard, staying behind the rest of them to make sure no canine would attack them. Between Steve, who was busy leading, and the reluctant Doctor Banner, Thor was the only other person capable of being a human barricade. As a hellhound gained enough speed to launch itself towards the back of Clint's legs, Thor mercilessly kicked it to the side, grinning at the sound of its high pitched whimper.

A minute into their run and nearly a few steps until the halfway mark Tony's pace had already started to slow as he wheezed uncontrollably. Bruce snatched his shirt sleeve rather roughly as he set the pace for the both of them.

As they approached the site, that sense of relief had yet to emerge from within their guts as the dogs were still hot on their tails. At the rate they were running, they'd never climb up fast enough to avoid being pounced on.

"Keep going," Natasha ordered them as they continued to sprint. "I'll lose them," she continued, knife in hand. Clint and Steve simultaneously nodded at her, having full confidence in her capabilities. Before she could veer sharply away from their destined tree base, a firm hand clasped around her arm. She was at a loss of words at the realization that the grip wasn't from Clint, who instead was busy shaking off a set of teeth from his pant leg.

"Stay with the group," Tony warned in between his raspy breaths.

Another hellhound made its way into Thor's fist.

"I'll be fine," she said quickly before trying to pull her arm away. As she tried to break free, his grip only became tighter and more desperate, his dull nails digging into her arm. She looked at him and read his face. His eyebrows scrunched and he bit the inside of his bottom lip, his eyes watered only very slightly, but enough for her to make out his inaudible _please_. "Trust me," she said, regretting it immediately as he tightened his hold even further. How could he trust the very woman whose job was to spy on him? She couldn't compromise the safety of the entire team.

Natasha yanked her arm free as she made a quick dash into a nearby opening of trees. Before Tony could run after her, Bruce pulled him back. "She can handle them Tony," he said.

"Hey hey hey!" Natasha shouted as she quickened her pace, luring the dogs away from the group.

* * *

They continued running until they had reached the trunk of a gargantuan tree. It was truly a living fossil, resembling something that could have come from the prehistoric era, the perfect size for a tyrannosaurus tree house-mansion-estate. Thick branches the size of minivans extended from the main stalk, which itself had seemed to stretch for miles on end.

Clint was the first to climb up, effortlessly jumping onto one of many arms of the tree and scaling along its smooth bark. Below, Steve interlocked his hands, allowing Bruce to step on and be thrown high enough for Clint to pull him up. Tony soon followed, being helped onto the branch by the others.

"After you Captain," Thor offered, and imitated Steve's locked hands boosting technique.

"Well isn't _that_ cute?" Tony scoffed from above, earning a snicker from Clint.

* * *

Natasha had lost the hellhounds for the most part, barely breaking a sweat. In the meantime, she had managed to climb up a tree herself, and was working on making her way back to her team via branch leaping. With her extensive gymnastic skills, this was child's play. From atop, she was able to pinpoint the location of each hellhound from their loud sniffing and growling. Two were just below her, barking threateningly as she rested on a sturdy tree limb. One was farther back along their trail, as it was knocked out by Thor. Another was lying somewhere at the bottom of the ravine that it had failed to leap over as it was chasing Natasha. "Damn," she muttered, realizing that the last hellhound had made its way back to follow the others instead.

Without hesitation, Natasha swiftly headed towards the large tree ahead.

* * *

Steve reached out for Clint's hands while being raised by Thor's hands. Out of the green, a lone hellhound sprung onto Steve; its extended claws dug deep into his flesh and dragged down. He let go of Clint's hands and fell on top of Thor, letting out a pained groan.

"Cap!" Clint yelled as the animal prepared its deadly lunge.

The hellhound pounced forward. A bulky arm caught it mid-jump by the neck and smashed it into the ground. The team sat in awe as their green friend sat cross-legged and continued to pound the dog into the ground, making a bloody puddle of canine paste. Seamless Hulk transition had become exceptionally useful, and Tony made a mental note to compliment Bruce for that feat.

Steve and Thor scrambled from their dog pile into sitting positions to watch the Hulk beat the carcass into a pulp. Clint and Tony stared intently with dropped jaws and unblinking eyes. Unlike Steve who was horrified by the unnecessary and excessive violence, the two were genuinely amused. Tony didn't even try to discreetly cheer for his green friend, pounding his fists up and down eagerly.

"Um," Clint interjected the awkward moment, "Hulk?" The beating had gone on for nearly five minutes –four minutes and fifty seconds too much according to Steve.

Hulk paused his pulp-making cooking session with a low grunt of acknowledgment and looked up.

"Go find Black Widow boy," Clint said enthusiastically and pointed off into the general direction that Natasha had gone.

Hulk nodded and gave another grunt before positioning his bent knees and jumping off into the dense forest. A cloud of dust formed from his site of launch, and the booming thumps could be heard every time he landed onto the ground.

"Good thinking," Steve complimented, shaking his head and blinking his eyes. He was still in shock from witnessing that whole scene. He turned his head away to avoid another glimpse of the dog meat flapjack.

"Are your injuries severe?" Thor asked worriedly, helping the captain onto his feet. The bleeding had stopped, but his stained shirt was sticking to his back. Both his shirt as well as undershirt was torn into strips, revealing long, bloody cuts.

Steve gave a quick glanced at his back, accessing the damage. "I'm okay," he said surely. He knew that the super soldier serum had boosted his immune system dramatically, allowing him to heal at record speed. He could feel his cuts tighten as he arched his back forward to stretch, noting that they had already began to form scabs.

Again, Thor bent over and offered Steve his interlocked hands. This time around, he successfully managed to take his seat atop the tree branch. Thor bent his knees and thrust his arms upward, jumping towards the others. He latched himself onto the trunk (bear hugged the trunk) before attempting a second sideways leap for the branch. The bark was too smooth to attain a decent grip as he found himself gradually sliding down. He immediately made the follow up jump and extended his arms out to catch Clint's, who then pulled him up.

"Your technique was _cough_…graceful," Tony admitted.

"Very swan-like," Clint added.

"There are countless talents that I have yet to reveal to the Avengers," Thor replied, grinning ear to ear.

Steve got up and strolled along the tree's limb, which was so unusually wide that it felt flat. He could without a doubt park an entire school bus on it. Even with the two suns and bearwolves and hellhounds and giant school bus trees, he didn't find the placeall too shocking. They were only infinitesimal differences compared to when he first woke up. That overwhelming feeling of confusion and panic that made him sick to his stomach didn't come up this time around. Just as illnesses, it was dawning on him that he may have become immune to such shock. He had already seen it all.

* * *

Natasha leapt from tree to tree, progressively approaching her target. She stopped suddenly as her sensitive ears informed her of the retreating dogs. Now any fool would take it as a gift from the gods and continue on their merry way, but Natasha was no fool. Something was obviously coming; something intimidating enough to scare away a pack of hungry hellhounds. While perching above (jeez, she had been spending way too much time with Clint), she peered across the forest top, spotting rustling of trees that headed her way. Thunderous stomping shook the entire tree she was balancing on. Whatever was coming was picking up speed. Natasha was unsure whether the booming thumps were from the beast or if it was in fact her heart pounding inside. Before she could make her way out of its path, the monster arrived at the base of her hiding spot.

"HULK BRING SPIDER HOME," it greeted her.

Natasha closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. Her heartbeat faded away as she saw the Hulk patiently waiting for her to come down.

The two then headed back to base camp, walking side by side. Natasha found Bruce's endearing nature as she noticed Hulk continuously looking down at her to keep his pace. He slowly and casually –as if trying to act subtle took one step and waited for her four steps before making the next. She chuckled at the thought of Hulk's attempt to walk at human pace, as if it was more crucial in blending in than what he physically looked like.

* * *

At the sound of crunching leaves, Tony took the satellite out of his pocket and placed it beside him. He undid his belt buckle and began sliding off his jeans.

Clint restrained himself from questioning the billionaire, until the situation deemed itself needy of his comments. "Oh god, why the hell –are those…what –WHY?" he stammered, clearly in wonderment.

"What? It was a gift from Pepper," Tony defended. He looked down to access the danger, not understanding Clint's confusion. Underneath his pants he wore bright red boxers that had his Iron Man headpiece scattered all over. Best of all, a single arc reactor was printed onto the center front.

"Iron Man underwear. Wow," Steve said, joining the commotion.

"They're _boxers_, and the 650 thread count silk is heaven on my–"

"Okay, okay. I get it," Steve interrupted. "Box-er," he pronounced. If he had remembered correctly, his neighbor once had a friendly boxer dog. Gosh, terminology had drastically changed since then.

Thor kept to himself, feeling a bit left out since he himself wasn't wearing _any _undergarment. The jeans and a shirt were restricting enough as it was. He didn't understand the notion of wearing clothes under more clothes.

Expectedly, Natasha and one shy, naked man appeared from the bushes.

Tony threw down his jeans to Bruce, who was ashamedly covering himself with his hands. "Thanks," he said while putting on the jeans without the usual reluctance or hesitation he has when dealing with other circumstances.

"Well isn't _that_ cute?" Clint parroted back. Tony subsequently slapped him in the back of the head. "Hmph," he scoffed. "I guess Banner needs a shirt too," he said, slowly lifting up his top to reveal his chiseled abdomen that he flexed as hard as he could.

"God, not _again_," Natasha moaned out as she silently climbed up to sit next to him.

Thor perked up at his chance. He had been mimicking Steve's Midgardian ritual of wearing a sleeveless shirt under any piece of clothing. Eagerly, he took off his shirt, stripping down to a tank top –one with the suspiciously same brand name as Steve's tank top. "I will offer one of my shirts to you Doctor Banner!" he yelled out before jumping off the branch and landing with a loud thud.

"Um, thank you, Thor," he said quietly and took the gift from his huge hand. Thor's shirt fit loosely and the jeans were a bit tight fitting, but it was better than wearing only skin. He came over to stand underneath the rest of the team. Thor threw him up to Steve's awaiting hands and he was relieved that they were all finally safe.

Eventually, everyone began to spread out across the enormous tree to catch up on their sleep. Before escaping onto a neighboring limb, both Clint and Natasha each gave their separate statement of gratitude –Natasha finishing with an endearing peck on his cheek. Bruce couldn't help but think about his team. As he lay down on the tree and gazed at the shimmering leaves that reflected the moonlight, he realized that they actually cared. The shirt and jeans and boosting and catching and thank you-ing were for him. Maybe it was time that he spends less hiding in the lab and more in the tower's state of the art movie room. It was the first night in long time that he felt at ease and was able to fall asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Tony continued to work on his phone, using the reactor to light the object. He looked up to find Bruce already asleep a few feet away from him. Natasha and Clint had disappeared to do _things_ for the night. Steve was on the far end of the tree, piling up leaves to make some sort of leaf pillow. Thor sat with his legs hanging off the edge of branch, watching at the moon and the stars while contemplating.

Tony set his project down and made his way over. Personal talk wasn't his strong suit. Hell, if he could make a suit to accomplish the task, he would have already done so. Tony didn't know much about the guy, but he figured he'd might as well give it a go. His cautiously stepped over Bruce's fetal position and sat down next to the demi god.

"What's up goldilocks?" he said casually, looking out at the stars as well.

"I am thinking about my brother," Thor said, solemn.

Oh golly. As with most people, Tony had expected the typical 'nothing much' response. This was not going as planned. His head screamed for him to abort mission, but he must have had some extensive brain damage as none of the warnings registered.

"I'm…sorry…" He didn't know what to say.

"It is on my father's intents that he became what he was," he continued.

Tony did what he normally would never ever _ever_ do. He listened. He kept his mouth shut and just listened.

"I loved Loki; he was my brother. But the Allfather receives what he so desires. For me to become king, it tore Loki apart."

"My father had bestowed onto me great esteem, what he had been so unfairly neglected of," he clenched his fists. "I do not understand why Loki has made an enemy of me. It was not my will that I was granted my father's blessings. I do not wish it was so, but Loki should have expelled his anger upon the Allfather."

Tony's pupils dilated, his very own "light bulb" that signaled an epiphany. As irrelevant as the story was, it wasn't.

"You don't deserve his hate," Ton replied sincerely. "I'm glad we could talk," he clapped Thor's shoulder and stood up.

Thor gave a nod of agreement and scooted back into the tree to lie down. He pulled his arms up and rested his head in his hands. "May you have a pleasant sleep," he said with his eyes closed.

"You too buddy." Tony wasn't tired though. Instead, he made his way further down the buffet line. Steve had just finished his masterpiece. The leaf pillow was now more like a leaf mattress. He had just settled in when he heard light footprints make its way towards him.

If the others were at all awake, they would have stopped him. Maybe Clint would have gone as far as tackling him off the tree just to avoid it. Natasha would have given him her threatening look.

Tony was going to have _chat_ with Steve.

* * *

**SM:** Welp, I'm running out of imagination. So, I'm addressing the initial problems from the first chapter. Sorry if the story is getting out of hand. I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve let his head sink into the pile of leaves and shut his eyes. He felt somewhat frustrated as it was late and yet he couldn't stop being so _aware_. He kept his eyes closed as he scratched a bug bit on the side of his neck, taking out all of his annoyance with every scratch. The moment the suns creep up from behind the trees and the entire forest bed is illuminated with the familiar warm glow, he knew he'd wake up. He was a man of structure and order. When the day becomes bright enough to see, then gosh darn it he would keep his eyes open. Steve didn't believe in sleeping in. Even if he did, he still wouldn't be able to, as the mechanisms of his internal clock prevented such task.

He kept thinking about Peggy. He thought about her and not his itchy neck. As the image of his lady in her in a light blue summer dress faded to darkness, Steve began to drift off, smiling ever so slightly. That is, until the soft tapping of footprints woke him. As the steps approached him, Steve kept his eyes shut. Playing dead was always a great method to avoid confrontation, he was certain of it.

He knew it was likely Bruce or Natasha checking up on the team. Thor could never be so subtle in anything and Tony couldn't care less. He was too exhausted to even acknowledge their presence with a nod, so he continued his attempt at sleeping again. Surely enough, whoever the night guard had been slowly backed away.

* * *

Tony was careful to make his movements as quiet as possible. He was never one to ever successfully sneak up on anyone. How the hell did Natasha do it? Maybe if he bought himself an all-leather cat suit, it would include an instruction manual. Slowly tiptoeing towards Steve's leaf cot, Tony kept a hand over the reactor as soon has he noticed the surrounding leaves exuding a soft glow. He quickly realized that quietness greatly took away from coordination, as the slower and softer he walked, the unbalanced he became. When he finally reached the end of the tree, Steve was already knocked out. A small leaf stuck to his nose at every inhale.

Tony looked down at Steve and debated on whether or not to wake him up. He knew he needed to say what was on his mind before his epiphany loses its spark and his eagerness fades. Nah. Tony Stark doesn't do _feels_. He turned on his heels and tiptoed back, hoping no one would find out about his attempt.

* * *

As Bruce/Natasha made their way back, Steve let his eyes wander through the small crevice of his eyelids that he opened for them. Needless to say, he felt a mixture of confusion and disappointment to realize that the back profile of his guardian didn't match either of them. He decided on calling him back, but hesitated. Steve was definitely not in any position to participate in another fight, but he was the team leader. It was his chance to settle it all. He warned himself that no matter what the outcome, he would stay calm, cool, and collected. He sat up from his bed and sighed, calming himself down for the anticipated quarrel that was likely to erupt.

"Hey," Steve whispered before he got too far. Hell, it could have been hours by now and the man would still have been inching his way back, wobbling with his arms stretched out for balance.

"Shit," Tony muttered under his breath, his back still turned away. He spun around and flashed his trademark smile. "What's up buttercup?"

Steve furrowed his eyebrows and pointed a finger at the man in question. "You... are you okay?" he didn't know how to respond.

"Why is it that everyone always assumes there's something wrong with me? What, I can't enjoy a pleasant walk on this nice tree without being interrogated? I mean, sure–"

"Okay, okay," Steve hushed him and put a finger to his lips, gesturing to keep his voice down.

"I plead the fifth," Tony whispered.

"Right." Steve gave him a suspicious look before giving in. There was no point in prying at him if he had his mind already set. Tony was the most stubborn man he knew. He might as well go back to sleep.

Tony tapped his fingers on the side of his leg nervously, remembering his enlightening conversation with Thor. He could already feel the effect draining as the will to talk to Steve was no longer apparent. "I just…um. Y'know….it's," Tony juggled his words, biting his lower lip at the realization. Tony Stark is never at a loss for words. He really was losing it. "I…" he sighed. "Um," he recalculated his thoughts. "I hate you." There we go. That's it.

"I know," Steve said, allowing a small amount of irritation seep through his reply. "Good night," he ended, ready to fall back into his mattress.

"No wait!" Tony accidentally raised his voice and winced, hoping that he didn't wake anybody. "Um…okay," he fidgeted with his fingers, trying to put his ideas into speech. "Okay, well you're just like Thor, except without the extraterrestrial, Renaissance accent and the cape and the poptart addiction and the hammer, well, but you have a shield and that certainly would be filed into a similar category although…" he rambled on, stopping abruptly at the look of Steve's face, who clearly had no idea where he was getting at.

At this point, Steve was just worried about not getting enough sleep and being too tired to protect the crew from a possible threat.

Tony sighed for what seemed to be the tenth time. "I…I never liked my dad." God was that a load off his chest.

Steve wanted to interject right there and then. Howard was one of his best friends, and a man he truly admired. But, this wasn't the time and place to have an incident, and he knew it. So Steve sat and waited out Tony's rant, cringing at the insults.

"In fact I hated the guy, and I knew he hated me back." Steve stared out into the distant stars, eyes shifting as he reflected. "But you, Rogers," Tony could see Steve's head perk up at his involvement in his schpeal. "…he fucking worshiped you." Tony's eyes met his worn down shoes. He kicked his foot around uneasily. God, he'd spent less than a week with Bruce but had already picked up his edgy mannerisms. "You were so perfect; his greatest creation, he told me," Tony spat out.

There wasn't much that the captain could say besides an apology, but Tony wouldn't stop.

"…what I wouldn't give to hear him say that he loved me, that he was proud of me." Tony's hands clenched into fists as his eyebrows came down, "I was nothing to him. That sonofabitch would've traded me in to find you any day."

For the first time, Steve finally understood Tony's bitterness towards him. Now, he couldn't blame the guy for always picking fights with him. After all, he had indirectly sabotaged his relationship with his father.

"But…I don't hate you."

Steve finally turned and looked up to meet the engineer's eyes. Sleep deprivation can take even the strongest of men. If he could have done a double take with his ears, he would have.

"It's not your fault that my dad loved you more in two months than what he ever cared show me in his lifetime. No," he said, turning away. "You don't deserve my hate."

"Tony," Steve called out again, and again, Tony turned around. "Thank you," he said.

It was short, but sincere. Tony knew a genuine reply when he heard one, and because he didn't expect an apology, it was exactly what he needed to lighten his mood. He gave the captain a smirk before turning to return back to his designated area.

Steve fluffed his leaf pillow and evened out his leaf bed before diving right in. Although it was disheartening to find out that he had played a part in ruining a team member's childhood, he was comforted by their closure. Closure was necessary. Closure was good. That night, he dreamt of Peggy.

* * *

**SM:** Aaarggh matey, this chapter be short.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Steve was surprisingly the first to get up. And to think, he was worrying for nothing. He jumped off the branch and landed with a soft thud, looking up as a few leaves from his bedding fluttered down around him. He had taken the liberty of gathering some branches and twigs. Of course, the actual process he would save for Thor.

He glanced over at Tony who sat at the base of the tree, busy wiring his cellphone into the reactor. The stern focused look he had his face clashed with his red Iron Man boxers. It further supported Steve's past assertion that Tony Stark was in fact, a man-child.

His hair, usually slick with gel and product was now scruffy, and sticking out from every direction. He sported the mad scientist look well. His infamous goatee-mustache combo was masked by his unkempt stubble that diluted the overall shape. The thought made Steve scratch at his own beard that was beginning to grow.

"Good morning," he said, not expecting an answer.

A few moments later, he heard Tony mumble out, "Hey cap." He smiled, amused at the fact that it had required him to be stranded in an alternate universe for Tony to acknowledge his usual morning greeting.

Steve began exploring their campsite in search for any critters he could catch. They were deep inside the island by now, so unless the others were willing to relocate back to the beach side, fish was definitely off the menu. After Tony's girl scout remark, Steve figured it'd be best to kept his scout survival tactics on the down low, refusing to set himself up again. He tracked down some small droppings, keeping an eye out for broken twigs and crushed leaves.

* * *

Eventually, beams of sunlight penetrated the woodland floor, meandering through small gaps of the otherwise enclosed forest canopy. For the most part, the shrubbery provided much needed shade. As the day began to emerge and illuminate the greens, the bustling sounds of chirping and cawing also erupted, followed by the awakening of the remaining Avengers.

"Baaaannner…" Clint drawled as made his way from his separate bedroom shared with Natasha and onto the main branch of the gigantic tree.

Bruce was nearly unrecognizable in that large shirt that draped over him like a poncho. The unbuckled belt protruded from behind the shirt. He was no longer the same neat, well ordered scientist that Clint once knew. He turned his head but didn't say anything, only giving that _go on_ look.

"I don't feel good," Clint said petulantly, as if his wellbeing was directly affected by Bruce's actions. "At all," he emphasized.

The back of Bruce's hand met with Clint's forehead. He leaned over to check the scabs forming from the slashes on his face, upset at the sight of some yellowish discharge that drained from some of the deeper cuts. "Um, you're running a low grade fever from the infection," he pointed out. "Try and keep the cuts dry until they heal." For some odd reason, Clint had an unsatisfied look. Bruce scratched his head, "You'll uh…get better soon…don't worry." He wasn't sure if he was assuring enough. He bit the inside of lip and gave the assassin a small smile.

"You're terrible at this," Clint told him before scaling the tree down.

Bruce shoved his hands inside his pockets and shrugged, his face scrunching with confusion.

"What got you so worked up this morning?" Natasha hopped down out of nowhere, causing the doctor jump slightly.

"Uhm…Clint, he–" he stammered, now peering upwards to see where she had come from.

"I know," she cut in and immediately leapt off the branch to meet up with Clint.

Bruce brought his eyes back and did a complete three-sixty turn before realizing that Natasha was now on the ground below him. "Okay," he said quietly to the small leaf that fell by his feet.

Somewhere within that time frame, Thor had already woken up and took his rightful place beside the pile of branches left out for him. He placed a stick in between his hands and rubbed persistently, unaware of his tongue sticking out to the side as he did so.

Natasha smirked at his Labrador-like manner.

Thor tugged at her pant leg. "Lady Natasha," he said, hinting at the steady stream of smoke that came from the pile.

"Great work Thor," she said unimpressed. The tone didn't matter to Thor –not that it _ever_ did, because the words were spoken and he took the compliment freely.

Suddenly, the pile of wood burst into flames and Thor fell back. "BEHOLD!" he boomed. "With these hands, I have created…FIRE!" he bellowed at that last word. With his arms outstretched, he mimicked Tony's cue for applause.

"Right." She walked over to Clint and Tony, unsure if she should be worried of hearing Thor's maniacal laughter behind her. "You… are _contagious_," she said, noticing that she wasn't the only one to witness Asgardian prince's self-absorbed gesture.

"I'm _influential_," Tony corrected without looking up from his work.

Some leaves ruffled and Bruce let out a restrained yelp as he lost his footing in an attempt to scale down the side of the tree trunk. As he fell into a slopping pile, Bruce managed to get all heads turning –with the exception of Thor who was busy admiring his creation.

Clint stuffed his fist inside his mouth and pinched his eyes close to keep from laughing. It wasn't so much to save Bruce a moment of embarrassment as it was to save himself from a green beat down. He remembered that heap of dog pulp and shuddered.

"You okay?" Natasha offered a hand.

"Uh, yah. I-I'm fine," he scrambled to his feet.

"It's a good thing your neck broke the fall. Those jeans cost more than your house."

"Tony, I've been all over India." He patted away the dirt that clung onto his clothes.

"My point exact."

Bruce wanted to take his remark as sarcasm, but he had a terrible feeling that Tony wasn't exaggerating in the slightest bit.

"My friends, the captain has returned! WITH FOOD!" Thor shouted into Clint and Natasha's faces as he wrapped his bulky arms around them and herded them towards the fire. "Come," he cheerfully directed his arms towards Bruce and Tony, "It is time that we break our fast."

Bruce sheepishly smiled and gave him a nod.

Tony was beginning to hook his rector to the newly finished device. "In a minute goldilocks," Tony mumbled into his lap, which was unusually bare. Tony Stark never wears shorts. Tony Stark only wears suits and tuxedos or nothing at all. Tony Stark took one for the team.

Satisfied, Thor nudged Bruce's shoulder before half jogging over to Steve.

"You really should eat something Tony, I mean your body's fighting off the infection in your lungs and it needs all the fuel it can get, and you've had a loss of appetite, maybe a new symptom–" Bruce trailed off, following with medical jargon that Tony _knew_, but was uninterested in.

It was a struggle to keep up with Bruce's rant. Now he knew how everyone else felt. Everything was rotated about twenty degrees upside down, and sounds were coming in distorted. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, that lingering presence of phlegm making him wheeze. He tried to concentrate on the glowing screen in his hands.

It was obvious that Tony wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying. Bruce had caught it early on, that the billionaire had a tendency to zone out when someone other than himself was speaking. This had become more and more evident in their conferences with director Fury. This time, new elements came into play. Tony's eyes were subtly glassy, and his fingers failed to comply to basic commands as he clumsily fumbled with the phone. Bruce reached over to feel his forehead.

Tony slapped his hand away as soon as he felt it. Granted, his reaction time was slow enough for Bruce to be relieved that his fever was only a mild one. "I am not your lab rat Banner," he murmured grumpily.

"You need to eat," Bruce demanded.

"I _know_ Bruce. I'm not three," he said, oblivious of his childish brand of underpants. In his mind, he looked fantastic –as always. Clothes was not a factor of his beauty.

"…Right." Bruce surrendered. As he walked away, he turned for one final objection, but realizing that he'd never win, he just turned again and kept on his way.

By the fireplace, Steve dropped a pile of various critters: a couple of birds, half a dozen of birds, some ferret-like cats, and one particularly fluffy thing that was just too adorable to eat. They all sat down, watching Natasha's skinning skills. The fur-ball, who was apparently playing dead, awoke from its state and ran into Bruce's lap.

"Aww, hey little guy," he cooed, cuddling the thing in his arms.

Clint immediately ran over to Bruce and petted the shit out of poor thing. "It's soo wittle and soft!" he babbled, nuzzling up nose to nose. "We can't eat him, he's too cyoot!" Clint snatched it from Bruce and held it so that it laid on its back.

"Well, what is it?" Bruce asked, tickling its furry belly. He couldn't help but smile as its paws curled up to hold onto his hand, as if to tell him that it was indeed, ticklish.

"I dunno, but he's mine," Clint declared. "His name is Barry and I love him."

"_She_ is a chinchilla," Natasha informed him. She calmly slit the throat of another bird, showing no grief for the desperate screech that it let out before gurgling on its own blood. "I'm eating her."

Bruce and Clint simultaneously gasped, causing Thor to chuckle loudly. Sure he'd love a fluffy chinchilla as much as the next guy, but he lived under the reign of his mighty stomach.

As soon as Natasha finished skinning and degutting the animals, they were skewered to be cooked over the fire. There was plenty of food to go around and they all were immensely thankful to have Steve's handy woodland services available. While waiting for the meat to cook, they were blasting out ideas of how they had gotten there. Everyone laughed at each other's predictions of what the villain would look like and listed all the stereotypes of being a 'bad guy'.

The villain usually has had a horrific childhood; most often, they are an orphan, and almost always abused.

This demeaning past causes an overwhelming sense of anger and desire for revenge and sometimes redemption.

They turn to a dark force, in which they acquire a super power and thus become a _super_ villain. Otherwise, they are just an _ordinary_ villain.

"What about the portals?" Clint asked, changing the mood of the conversation as he stuffed his face with rabbit meat.

"We don't know who was behind the scheme, or what they wanted to do with it," Steve responded, avoiding a hasty conclusion jumping.

"Well, they probably used it to blast us here."

"It's unlikely that they used one since that room only had prototypes," Bruce reasoned.

"Did anyone even bother asking Stark?" Natasha joined in. She could already hear Tony dragging his feet toward them.

Thor grabbed Bruce by the shoulders and shoved him towards Tony, who really was coming their way. Damn her Vulcan hearing.

Bruce awkwardly fell into Tony. "Um," Bruce scratched his head nervously. A disappointed Tony held the unattached device in his hand and looked up.

"Tony, um, h-have some food," he suggested.

"Yah… that's why I came over here," Tony replied, noting Bruce's extra apprehensive tone.

His eyes met Clint, who shooed him with his hand, urging him to cut to the chase. "Uh. Tony, that place with those portals…" Bruce hesitated. Immediately, Tony turned on his heel to walk away. "…d-did you build them?"

Tony kept his back turned but froze. He swallowed hard and bit the inside of his lip. If it were at all possible for him to just fly off with his suit, he would have. He let out a long sigh and turned around, eyes watering, looking down.

They knew what that meant. "Hey…it's not your fault," Steve said, standing up. The thought of Tony being tortured ran through his mind.

"Any of us would have caved," Clint agreed.

Their reassurance went unheard, because Tony felt the tremendous guilt tugging at his heart. His portal had brought them all there. It was his fault. He felt his pulse thump loudly behind the walls of his neck. A shrill ring drowned out the. He let a single tear trail down his cheek.

Natasha watched as Tony's eyes lost its focus as his pupils oscillated back and forth. She wasn't alone in this observation, as Bruce had noticed it too and knew exactly what was happening. Her instincts fired its red alerts, and as soon as she ran over to him, he collapsed onto the floor, convulsing violently. The satellite dropped onto the floor and broke in two. She sat behind him, and cradled his head in her hands when he began thrashing about. "Bruce!" she cried out, her eyes glued on Tony.

"He's having a seizure," Bruce was down next to Tony in an instant. He was worried how his spasms were interrupting his breathing, but remained calm to avoid alarming the others. He carefully picked up the satellite, knowing its significance and set it aside on top a nearby log.

Thor gazed in horror –as did the others (but in lesser magnitude of horror-ness) as the genius inventor's body tensed and his fisted arms jerked around. His jaw tightened and he gritted his teeth as his muscles contracted uncontrollably. Often he had noted that Midgard had housed very fragile inhabitants. Their physical strength and immunity to diseases were of no match, and yet he was frightened by this particular instance.

Tony's breathing came in ragged breathes that stopped completely when the more violent shakes racked his body.

As the episode simmered down, Tony's tremors were brief and came in shorter intervals. His eyes fluttered throughout the period, as if his unconscious mind was trying to make sense of it all.

"There's a likely chance he'll vomit," Bruce warned Natasha, whose hands still cupped protectively under head. The decline in Tony's shaking allowed Bruce to roll Tony over on his side, as a precaution.

Steve cringed at the sound his fallen comrade gasping as each convulsion halted his breathing. He backed away from the scene –not entirely, but enough to not be physically involved. It was extremely stressful to watch and know that nothing could have been done, especially for a man of action.

"What do we do?" Steve asked; he hated not knowing what was going on.

"We c-can't do anything," Bruce answered. "Just wait for it to pass."

And so they waited. The moment that seemed to have lasted an eternity all came to an end. Tony's eyes rolled back, and his limbs fell lifelessly to his side. If he was breathing, they really couldn't tell.

"Tony…" Clint said in the back, he feared the worse.

Bruce laid Tony on his back. His trembling hands came up to rest shortly on Tony's shoulders before shaking him awake.

They watched anxiously for their friend to respond. Thor's hands rolled into fists, ignoring lingering sting inflicted by those quills. He pushed Clint and Steve aside and came closer. "Son of Stark!" he shouted, his call going unanswered. He cursed himself for ever having come to Midgard, because he had come to care too much for his new friends, and now his heart was aching.

"TONY!" Natasha screamed. Suddenly his eyes ripped open and he took in a shuddering breath. His hand shot up and grabbed hers, which he clung tightly to his chest.

Thor cheered in delight, grabbing Clint and Steve by the shoulders for two large side hugs.

Tony looked up and saw Natasha looking back down at him. He figured there were spiders crawling out of the orifices his face because he could see the fear in her eyes. But it wasn't so. Natasha looked down as Tony held her hand, his eyes in panic. _He_ was terrified. "Hey, hey, it's okay," she comforted, rubbing circles in his chest.

"Tony, you just had a seizure," Bruce said loudly, "Can you hear me?" He checked his eyes and pulse.

Tony saw Bruce above him, saying something about…something. It probably wasn't important. Everything was slow, and all the sounds mashed together. He didn't remember drinking; it scared him. He held tightly onto Natasha's hand, panting.

When Tony's breathing started to even out Bruce stood up, "He'll be okay," he said, "But… _never_ bring this up again; it'll most likely trigger another episode."

The others nodded.

Natasha used her free hand to gently stroke his hair, "It's okay," she reassured him.

Extraordinarily enough, he believed her. Soon Tony's grip began to relax as he calmed down. She had remembered reading his file about the incident in Afghanistan. A lot was left out, but eventually filled up after talking with Pepper. Tony hated waking up in confusion, so she couldn't blame him for freaking out after experiencing a seizure. What had bothered her though was that she –of all people, was able to reassure him and keep him at ease. As much as she despised his rich-man, womanizer persona, she valued his trust.

* * *

**SM:** I really tried to update sooner. Attempt failed. This whole _satellite _thing will start to come together soon. Sorry if it bothers you.


	10. Chapter 10

Bruce picked up the broken satellite and sighed heavily.

"THE SEASON PREMIERE!" Clint yelled out, pulling his hair with both of his hands.

"Clint, stop that," Steve scolded. He looked over at Tony, whose eyes were glazed over, still holding Natasha's hand.

"UGGHH!" he dramatically moaned in response.

"Everything is still intact; it's just the silicon backboard that snapped," Bruce said as he gave it a closer look.

"Dr. Banner, you are also a man of science," Thor calmly pointed out. "Surely you will be able to repair this invention." Clint looked at him, and gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up. Thor returned the gesture with a macho, toothy smile.

"Well I can fuse the circuit board back together, but it won't do anything until it's powered up," Bruce clarified.

"Well get to it doc," Clint hustled him, snapping his fingers repeatedly.

Separating some of the wires, Bruce carefully soldered the two pieces together. He raised his head to find the others caught in their own thoughts. Thor stared at the fire, mindlessly rubbing his fingers with his thumb. Similarly, Steve was pensive and rested his elbows on his knees and his head onto his hand. Clint leaned back onto the trunk of a tree and began to flick small rocks at Bruce's shoes.

Natasha sat while Tony's head still rested on her lap, waiting for Bruce to say something. Her attention quickly shifted as the grip on her hand tightened, and Tony began to slowly squirm. "Hey, you alright?" she said, patting him on the chest with her other hand.

Natasha's comment made Bruce look up. He set the device down and hurried over, nearly running through the bonfire. Tony blinked sluggishly, trying to make out what was happening. "Huhh?" he said, his voice came out raspy. He was helped by Bruce and Natasha into a sitting position, and rubbed his eyes with his hands.

"How're you feeling?" Bruce asked, and waiting patiently for an answer, as usual. He soon grew a bit worried though, as Tony didn't even seem to hear him, despite being inches from his face.

Tony kept his face buried in his hands, trying to recollect his memories. He must have had temporary hearing loss, because when he peeked from his hands, Steve, Clint, and Thor were gathered around him. He glanced over at Bruce, who had that _take your time; I can wait for an answer_ look which meant he had asked a question. He felt everyone's eyes on him, and knew they were expecting him to say something. He hung his head down. "I'm _so_ sorry," he muttered.

They were all taken back by the reply. Nobody had expected an apology.

* * *

They formed a close circle around him. Clint sat down with Barry nestled in his lap, thoughtlessly petting _her_ as he waited for the scene to unravel.

Being the team's main man and full time conversation initiator, Steve began. "Tony you had no choice, they were going to kill you."

Thor nodded solemnly in agreement. "The captain speaks of truth; it is not your wrongdoing, but that of your captors. Though in its light you have presented us with a means of escape," he pointed out the device. "I assure you that you have not angered us in the slightest," he said with his hand over his heart.

Natasha placed her hand on Tony's shoulder and gave a consoling squeeze when she saw that their speeches did nothing to rid him of his guilty state.

On a regular day, Tony knew better than to let Natasha lay a hand on him, because it usually meant that he'd be in one of her infamous thigh-chokes within the minute. Sure it was overtly sexual and he loved every minute of it, until he'd pass out. He'd never willingly let that assassin anywhere near his neck.

Today was an _irregular_ day. He didn't shrug her hand off while his mind scrambled to form his words.

"No, you're wrong," he said quietly, refusing to make eye contact. He swallowed hard, and regrettably continued, "They didn't catch me to build them a portal…" he looked up at them hesitantly, "…they caught me because I already _built_ one."

Clint held in a gasp. "What do you mean you already built one?!" Frankly, this was better than what that detective show's season premiere could have ever turned out to be. If he was anymore careless, he would have started picking at the chinchilla's fur and stuffing it into his mouth like he would popcorn.

Bruce waved off Clint's question. "Wait, j-just tell us what happened, first…from the beginning." His worried eyebrows scrunched upwards. Anger was something he needed to keep a very tight lid on, but showing concern? Not so much.

Tony let out a drawn out breath and fidgeted with the ends of his boxer shorts. "I was looking to find new power resources. I'm…I'm the biggest name in the industry; the reactor was a beacon of self-sustaining clean energy. Self-sustaining but not renewable, and pretty damn expensive, even for me."

He let his eyes wander unblinkingly, but never looking up far enough to meet anyone else's gaze. It was as if what he saw presently wasn't actually there, because he was reliving his flashback. "So, I built a portal for deep space exploration for new supplies." He let out a sigh of relief and looked up to his teammates, who sat around him, speechless. "That's it," he said, cueing the end of the story.

"How'd you build the portal?" Natasha asked without a hint of eagerness in her voice.

"SHIELD documented Selvig's work when they first found the Tesseract."

"That file has a level nine clearance," Clint notified the group.

"Yeah," was all that Tony said. He was too guilt-ridden to say anything otherwise.

Steve shook his head in confusion. "That doesn't make any sense, Tony. Why would they need to kidnap you when they could have just taken your machine?"

"Even with _my_ security, I didn't want any mishaps. I deconstructed the portal and stripped it down into its necessary components and miniaturized it. I followed all the protocols; even had Jarvis wipe out all the data from the systems, but they must have overridden him from the start. They were tracking my progress, and when they couldn't find what they thought a portal _should_ have looked like, took me instead."

"Those savages bargained with your life in exchange for a portal," Thor said, disgusted. "Some mortals, I do not understand."

"No," Tony clenched his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping that memories would fade. "They weren't going to kill me."

Right then, Clint turned slightly to look at his partner. Natasha subtly moved her eyes to meet his. Years of training have made them only somewhat numb to the vast methods of torture. For countless months on end they have been drilled to never, _ever_ break. Between spilling information and death, they knew to choose the latter eleven out of ten times. But in instances as these, death didn't come easily, and Tony wasn't a highly trained assassin.

Again, Tony returned from his reminiscing, now conscious of his audience. Between the sympathetic looks of Clint and Natasha, Bruce's head that hung down, and the confused expressions of Steve and Thor, he had some more explaining to do. Two-out-of-five wasn't bad. He _really _didn't want to go into any more detail, but the pile of shit he was treading in was already to his neck. There really was no outcome that wouldn't make him any less guilty. "…might as well," he muttered. Damn, he really needed to work on distinguishing between his internal thoughts and vocal monologue. "They didn't threaten me with death –shit, I would have been _much_ happier. No, I would have been stuck there for, God, I don't know, for forever." He paused a bit, rubbing his shirt to scratch the area around the reactor. "Well it worked," he continued. "I only lasted about two days."

Clint perked up. Two days was impressive for a civilian. Barry bounced from his lap and hopped over to Bruce, who welcomed her with gentle strokes behind the ear.

"Those guys knew what they were doing –well, they didn't _really_know or else they wouldn't have needed me. They had a shitload of models stored in the back, none of them successful."

"That's what all those prototypes and blueprints were," Bruce acknowledge, not allowing the chinchilla to distract him.

Tony nodded. "They were smart, all the materials were there, just not properly used. All I needed were some spare parts and a preexisting device, but I wanted to draw some time," he leaned forward to cough into his shirt. "Well that didn't go too well. After a while, they wanted to motivate me. I was sent back to be water boarded again. I'd have a _session_ every hour until I finished. After I was done, they must have done a test run and brought you to their lab, and then transported all of us here."

"Look, none of this is your fault. You had no choice," Steve consoled.

"Plus, you're building that satellite thing," Clint added cheerfully. He scooted closer to Tony's ear before whispering, "If possible, I need to get back before nine o'clock on Friday for…work." By _work_ he meant his show. "Seriously though, don't beat yourself up over it shell-head." _That_ turned a switch. It was the exact comment that Tony had told Clint shortly after the fall and retreat of the Chitauri army –well, with _cockeye_ and shell-head being swapped. Coincidently, it was also what he had told Bruce about his accident in Harlem.

Now, he understood, and so did the others. Their own forgiveness was only credible if they truly held themselves to the same standards. Easily finding no fault in the billionaire meant that Clint and Bruce couldn't stay guilty; otherwise their exchanges would mean nothing. Tony smirked and returned Clint's fist bump.

It took a few minutes before he was sure his teammates weren't going to rip his head off. He wasn't great at reading faces, but they seemed to be more concerned than angry. "Okay…now that I've busted, there's no point in lying to you fine folks any longer."

The confession made Natasha cringe. Although she had made a living by misleading people, being lied to was the very thing she hated the most. Nothing good had ever come from deceit, and so she braced herself for the news.

Tony reached over and picked up the device. "When I miniaturized my portal, I hid it so assholes like them wouldn't find it. And, well…I wanted it to get pass customs since I was thinking I'd give one to Pepper so she could transport back to the tower between international meetings to have sex with me." He made no attempt to mask that last bit, not that it surprised anyone.

"So you built it into a phone," Bruce connected the dots, grinning at the brilliance of it all.

"Exactly. I haven't gotten to the self-transforming module yet, but my manual work isn't terrible."

"A portable portal. Catchy." Clint grabbed Barry from Bruce's arms and cuddled it.

Bruce didn't show any resistance. He was interested in the mechanisms of the transporter, although Barry was indeed, very fluffy. "You already had it hooked up before, what happened?"

"I had it connected to an external outing but at that rate, it would've taken a week to fully charge," Tony explained.

Now that hype of the story was well past its peak, the rest of the team lost interest. Thor went back to eating his quail along with Clint and Steve who roasted some squirrel meat.

The suffocating ring of listening ears and gazing eyes dispersed, and Tony felt much more comfortable explaining the problem to his potential lab partner. "There's cable that's connected to the core of the reactor, but I can't attach the ends."

Bruce noticed Tony's trembling hands. "Eat something first, then we'll work on the power source."

Bruce was really hammering him on the whole eating thing. "You're the most stubborn person I know." The insult had no effect on the doctor.

* * *

After reluctantly eating what he had deemed to be a 'typical Neanderthal breakfast', Tony did feel better, but he would have taken that admittance to his grave before telling Bruce.

"SON OF STARK!" Thor hollered out, then readjusted after noticing the pained grimace on everyone's face. "When will your bifrost be ready for us to use?" he said gentler.

"After I can get this thing hooked up properly, two days at most."

"Wouldn't your reactor run out of battery by then?" Steve continued the press conference.

"It doesn't run on _batteries_, capsicle, and no, this core has self-sustaining capacity of over five thousand years. I think I can spare a few."*

Clint wiped his fingers on his shirt and stood up before his legs fell asleep. "If it had so much power, then how come it takes so long?" Clint said haughtily.

"The reactor has an energy-release threshold designed just for my heart, and unlike my suit, this thing doesn't have a relay switch to amp it up. We just have to wait until the reserve is filled up. And by the way, I wasn't planning on running it on the reactor in the first place, so give me a break." Why he felt he needed to defend himself was beyond him. Tony never cared about what others thought of him –mostly because those other people almost always turned out to be backstabbing sonsofbitches. Maybe they weren't so bad after all, especially if he cares enough about their…_feels_.

"Well make it snappy," the archer retorted before walking off.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked.

"Back to creek to wash up, I want to be beautiful again," he replied, dramatically whipping back his non-existent long hair. He blew Steve a kiss and made his way.

His reply reminded them all of their physical appearance. Their hair was greasy and matted and they all smelled like a combination of manure and sea salt. At the realization, they all followed Clint back to the old campsite. Bruce would have been happily following along had Tony not insisted him on staying to work on the portal.

"Time is of the essence, my dear Watson," he concluded.

"Fine. Uh, what…what do you need me to do?" Bruce sat down in front of Tony, crossed-legged.

He twisted the arc reactor open to reveal the open cavity. The reactor was connected directly to the electrical nodes of his heart through small wires. He took hold of the thicker red wire. "See this? It's the primary cable. You have to follow back to the junction cap," he pulled the reactor to the side to give Bruce a clearer view. "The cap's somewhere in there," he pointed at the general direction. "The problem is, I can't just pull the cable out because the cap will come out with it, and the rest of these connecting wires are hooked to that cap which is attached to my heart and I don't want to die or anything like that," he said in one breath.

"Uh, okay, I-I can't do that," Bruce shook his head.

"It's fine, just get in close enough to hold the cap down with a finger and detach the cable with your other fingers," he said reassuringly.

"Alright," he gave in, exhaling loudly. He took the red lead from Tony and inched his hand towards his exposed heart.

Tony kept the reactor out of the way, careful not to pull anything loose. If it was the first time he had someone's hand in his chest, it would have felt odd, to say the least. It wasn't odd. "Whatever you do, please do not Hulk out on me."

Bruce ignored his small talk in order to concentrate. "Okay, um, I can feel the joint cap."

"You're literally touching my heart."

"Sit still," he cautioned. With his thumb and index finger gripping the wire, he held the cap down with his middle finger and cautiously disconnected the cable. "Got it," he said, pulling his hand out.

"Fantastic, start her up." Tony handed Bruce the phone and twisted the reactor back into place. The single red wire was suspended from the reactor and fused to the circuit board. Bruce grinned excitedly when the screen flicked on. He instantly regretted rejecting so many offers to collaborate down in his lab. Tony clicked to show the power reserve level, which was currently at a steady 2%. The connection was successful, and all that was left to do was sit back and bask in pride.

"You okay?" Bruce finally said after he had had too much basking.

Tony scoffed at the question. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just had a hypoxia-induced seizure."

"I'm Iron Man."

* * *

*the average lifespan is 72 years, in an issue of the Invincible Ironman, Jarvis mentioned that the mark three reactor could run for seventy lifetimes…therefore, math.

**SM:** My summer is nearly over. Between school, work, and this story, I must prioritize…THE UNEMPLOYMENT LINE AWAITS ME!


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